


Convergence

by soterianyx



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Action/Adventure, Eventual Romance, Multi, Romance, levimika - Freeform, rivamika
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-03-06
Updated: 2014-10-07
Packaged: 2018-01-14 18:20:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 32,485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1276261
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soterianyx/pseuds/soterianyx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Scientists were sure it was foolproof: the perfect plan for bio-engineering a weapon for the Capital to control the Titans, instead of exterminating them. For almost a hundred years, it progressed in secret—with successes bred and mistakes terminated—until the final stage of the L.E.V.I. Project underestimated its last two subjects. [RivaMika. Action/Drama/Suspense.]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

_“It didn’t work.”_

_“We made sure the serum was pure! You’re absolutely sure she’s showing no signs of transformation?”_

_“Positive. No symptoms. Her body must have rejected it immediately. Just like the others.”_

_“We thought we finally had it with the boy three years ago.”_

_“But that was **three** years ago. We made so many modifications to it, and still nothing…maybe we should try it with him again. Just to make sure.”_

_“I thought we released him back to his parents.”_

_“No parents. The Military Police soldiers who brought him to us confirmed his parents were dead and he had no other living relatives. Just a nine-year old orphan living on the streets in the Underground.”_

_“Do we still have him? If he has no family…”_

_“Yeah we still have him. The Military Police wanted us to keep him for some reason. Orders from who knows where. Probably nothing important. You never know with those guys.”_

_“Is it even **safe** to test on a subject twice? It’s never been done before.”_

_“I have no idea. We’ll just have to do it and find out. It might be that a double dose **is** needed and we’ve been calculating wrong.”_

_“I suppose it’s possible. And I guess it can’t hurt to try. It might be worth it.”_

_“That’s what I’m saying. Test this batch of the serum on him, and if he shows no signs of alteration, then we’ll know for sure that it’s a flop, and we’ll have to adjust somehow. He seems like our only positive control right now.”_

_“And if we’re wrong and he dies? There goes our best test subject. And we’ve already wiped and released the rest of them. The three-year-old girl was the last one.”_

_“If he makes it through the second injection and shows any evidence of conversion, we’ve hit the jackpot. If he dies…well, same old standard procedure: dump the body and find new experimentals to start over with.”_

_“What about the girl?”_

_“What **about** her? She’s useless to us now. Wipe her memory and the parents’. Send them on their way.”_

_“And the boy? He’s twelve now, right? A completely different body type than the three-year-old girl.”_

_“Perfect. Concurrent with the research, his body should adapt and sustain the serum just fine, since he’s going through puberty anyway. We should have thought of this earlier. I’ll get in touch with the Military Police and get approval. Shouldn’t take long.”_

_“I’ll start the erasing then. Where’s the girl staying? And her parents?”_

_“Below ground quarters. Couldn’t take any chances just in case the serum did work.”_

_“The boy too? Should I wipe his memory as well?”_

_“What for?”_

_“He **is** getting a second dose of the serum. And it’s not like the operation is a fucking walk in the park. Didn’t he and the other thirty-seven test subjects have to be confined to their beds because the pain didn’t abate for three weeks? I’m sure he remembers it, and he might fight us during the second administration.”_

_“We’re not being paid to be babysitters. And we can’t afford to waste the erasing liquor. He’s a **test subject** , nothing more.”_

_“Forgive me for getting just a little soft when we experiment on **children**. Sometimes I feel a little sorry for them. He’s just a kid.”_

_“Well snap out of it. We have our orders from the King himself. And at the rate of our progress, I’d say we don’t have much time before **we’re** the ones being experimented on. Wipe the memories of the girl and her parents and get them out of here.”_

_“Fine, fine. Send them back to their home in Wall Maria?”_

_“Affirmative. The quicker the better. As soon as I get the go ahead from the MPs, strap the boy down to the bed, and set up the apparatus. It’s going to be a long night.”_


	2. Parallel

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, who's ready for some crappy writing on stuff you already know? With the path I'm planning on taking for this story, I felt I needed to recap a few scenes we've already seen, but with a deeper look inside Levi and Mikasa's heads, so that's basically all this chapter is about. Including, of course, elements of the experimentation headcanon we love. But feel free to skip over this chapter if you want. If not, please enjoy!

Levi shifted in his chair and crossed his legs, tentatively ignoring the simpering words spewing from Nile Dawk. He hadn’t really been paying close attention to what the Military Police Commander had been arguing about anyway, and glanced sideways at Erwin Smith, who held his usual stoic gaze, betraying no emotion.

Each of the Commanders of the three military branches had been summoned to a brief meeting with the Generalissimo Darius Zacklay to report their biannual progress, and as usual, the Scouting Legion was far behind in any sort of breakthrough. The Generalissimo had shrewdly suggested that they begin forcing at least half of every future trainees’ squad to join the Legion to make up for its rapidly declining numbers, but Erwin had vehemently refused.

“With all due respect sir, I would rather have willing and proficient cadets than liabilities on the battlefield. Though our recruitment has somewhat dropped, my soldiers are beyond doubt the most elite this military has to offer and I cannot afford to abandon skill for quantity,” Erwin was now saying.

Zacklay nodded in acquiescence. “Understood, Commander. I’m sure you know the implications, should you fail to show any advancement in your research outside the Walls. The Scouting Legion will be disbanded should that happen.”

“Affirmed, sir. I am well aware of the consequences.”

“Excellent. You are dismissed,” Zacklay turned back toward Commander Dawk, and Erwin rose to leave. Levi hefted himself out of his chair, adjusting the tight strap across his chest, and followed Erwin from the office.  

“I need to discuss the new formation with Instructor Shadis in Wall Rose, Levi. While I’m there, observe the graduating class and its top ten. Perhaps a few of them might decide to join us this year,” Erwin kept his eyes focused on the glass of the carriage they were in, speaking softly.

The younger man raised a thin eyebrow. “You know it’s almost never that way, Erwin. The MPs always gain most of the top ten, with the rest going to the Garrison–”

“I’ve had word from Shadis that we have exceptional recruits this year. A few in particular have repeatedly shown expert handling of the maneuvering gear, some even as well as our own members–”

 Levi scoffed and didn’t try to hide it.

Erwin paused. “Perhaps not as well as you, Captain,” he said slowly, choosing his next words carefully. “But the circumstances in which you acquired your skills were quite…unique, and unorthodox.” He shot his subordinate a grim stare, eyes cold and aloof, and Levi thought he saw a flash of pity in the icy blue irises.

But it was gone before he could be sure, and he stared back under hooded lids, vaguely wondering if he had missed something vital. With Erwin though, one could never be too sure.

“Their final assessment is in about a month and Shadis believes they will all make very valuable soldiers. Report back to me when are finished, Captain,” Erwin continued, folding his hands in his lap. “I expect a full statement.”

Levi waved it off, knowing Erwin would understand his lax response. “Fine. I’ll go watch _children_ go pretend to play _war_.”

“You were no different,” Erwin said coldly, not missing the caustic undertone of his Captain’s words. “Though these _children_ know nothing of absolute sacrifice, many of them were there during the fall of Shiganshina. They enlisted because they _understood_.” He hadn’t raised his voice, but Levi felt the bitter remark strike his conscience. But–

 _You were no different_.

Levi suddenly twitched as images darted across his mind, unfamiliar feelings and emotions crawling from his skin.

_“Strap him down.”_

_A tall man in a white coat towered over him and caught his arms in a tight hold, pinning them to the rough pallet he was laying on._

_“Subject 38. Don’t be difficult, boy.”_

_“We’ve got him down, Doc. Roll in the apparatus. Let’s get this over with.”_

_A sharp needle inserted itself into the crease of skin on his arm just below his elbow and something dull and metallic streaked across his field of vision. He barely noticed the outline of the knife until the blade sank into his flesh. He shrieked from the sudden pain._

_“Tighten the straps and knock him out. I can’t administer it properly if he’s writhing all over the place.”_

“Captain. _Captain. Levi!_ ” Erwin’s voice broke through the nightmarish reverie and Levi was jolted back to the present, the alarming images shuttering to a stop in his disturbed mind. He was visibly shaking.

“What?” he snapped back, masking his apprehension. _The fourth time this has happened now. Fuck._

“I need you to stay _focused_ ,” Erwin answered roughly, eyes a little wider than normal, but still revealing nothing more than apathy.

“I _am_. I’m just…tired,” Levi’s usual articulate speech stumbled through his mouth, and he couldn’t think of anything more to say. He crossed his arms and turned his gaze outside, refusing to make eye contact. _Memories? Experiences? What else could they be? Nothing like that ever happened in the Underground. I would remember if it did._

“You can rest later. Study the recruits. And try to stay out of their way. They may know about you.”

“That’s not my problem,” he bit out, rubbing his left forearm absentmindedly as he continued to watch the scenery passing by. Erwin noticed the curious action in his visual periphery, mentally noting the uncharacteristic behavior but saying nothing.

Levi sucked in an abrupt breath. “It’s not like I can’t handle teenagers.” He rolled his dark gray eyes, not caring whether Erwin saw or not. “But fine. I’ll go watch the brats."

* * *

 

Mikasa trailed after Eren, Armin at her side, as they headed toward the forest course for training and preparation for their final evaluation. Eren was chattering happily at his sudden advancement above Jean Kirstein in the class ranking, but she paid him no attention, worried instead about the impending dissolution ceremony, when the graduates would have to choose which branch of the military they would join. She was still sure that her adopted brother could not be swayed in his decision about entering the Scouting Legion, and her heart sank with the realization that she might not be able to keep her promise to his mother.

Upon entering the course, she and her classmates adjusted their gear and waited for further instruction from the attending soldiers. As they waited, she noticed Instructor Shadis approaching with two other men, one rather tall and one rather short. _More advisors?_

“They’re being tested for advanced motility and motion dynamics, Captain, no blades today. Just maneuverability around obstacles. You know the drill,” Instructor Shadis said as they approached. “I will be with Commander Smith outside the course should you need my help.”

“Unnecessary, Instructor.”

Mikasa was taken aback by the deep, calm voice that projected from the shorter man, and she turned her head slightly to gain a better view of his face, still keeping an eye on Eren in front of her.

“I’m sure I won’t have any problems,” the shorter man was saying, looking sour and scowling at the group of teenagers. He was dressed in the standard military uniform, but Mikasa’s eyes widened as she recognized the symbol of the Scouting Legion emblazoned on his sleeves and chest. _Are we being recruited now?_ She glimpsed over at Eren, who hadn’t yet noticed the strangers. _Keep him away from those men._

The instructor nodded and turned away from his students, followed by the taller man, who leaned down and whispered something in the shorter man’s ear. He nodded, but said nothing in return, and Instructor Shadis and the taller man walked back the way they came, leaving the other man behind.

Mikasa heard a trainer give the order to launch and she pushed the two men from her mind, fully concentrating on her objective and determined to get this over with. Dodging strategically placed impediments around the forest course, she tailed Jean and Sasha, knowing they’d see the obstacles first and that Eren would follow as well. Swinging around a fumbling classmate, she picked up her pace, remembering they were also timed for improvement.

Suddenly, a green blur to her right caught her attention and she swiveled in midair, surprised at the appearance of another stranger. Trying to catch a clear view of the figure, she wondered if this was an impromptu examination; they were usually tested without any interference from the trainers, but they were still susceptible to spontaneous inspection. Deciding to ignore the bizarre happenstance, she continued on her path toward the end of the course, still pursuing Jean and Sasha.

She eyed the green blur as it twisted and skirted delicately around branches with such lithe, and she couldn’t help but be mildly impressed at its dexterity and passing silence. As the figure drew closer to her, it materialized into the short Scouting Legion soldier she had seen earlier and she frowned in confusion, recognizing the black hair and narrow eyes. _What does he want?_

The man pitched himself further ahead of her, steel cables flicking out and piercing a thick tree, and turned a flip before landing against the trunk, dislodging flakes of bark from the impact. He hung from his wires, and as Mikasa rushed by him, he met her own gaze with an indignant, yet attentive look.

She glared back at him before switching directions to finish the course, frustrated that she had let this mysterious stranger impede her performance. As she raced to the end of the obstacles, the man’s penetrating, yet somber eyes repeatedly flashed across her mind, refusing to be forgotten, and she blinked in cool aggravation as she pulled off the gear at the edge of the forest trail, tuning out the gasping and groaning from her weary classmates.

_Who was he?_

* * *

 

“Done with your report, Erwin,” Levi said and pushed a thin stack of paper toward the Commander. He watched as Erwin flipped through each page, skimming over the content.

“The top ten recruits this year are certainly more than qualified,” the Commander commented, pleased with the results. “Especially these three,” he selected a page, folded it, and placed it in a jacket pocket. “We’ll have to see which they choose.” He straightened his uniform jacket and inclined his head. “We leave for the 56th Expedition in two months. Same formation. Ready your squad, Captain.”

Levi jerked his head in response and withdrew from the room, his green cloak billowing behind his compact frame. He let out a puff of air he didn’t realize he’d been holding, and followed the long hallway back to his own quarters, boot heels clicking softly on the wooden floor and echoing faintly off the slim walls. Against his will, his thoughts wandered to the recruit he had shadowed through the forest earlier that day, a solemn girl with black hair and an eerily calm demeanor, and he was slightly perplexed. A rare and rather annoying affliction for the normally astute Captain.    

_That girl. Something about her seems…off, disparate. Too vigorous and robust for a fifteen-year-old girl._

He dismissed the absurd notion that she was abnormal or might have some sort of advantageous physical disease; Instructor Shadis had informed him that Mikasa Ackerman repeatedly excelled in all subjects as highest ranked of the top ten recruits, and was considered a prodigy in the 104th Trainees’ Squad. Nothing remarkable there. The trainees’ squads occasionally produced rather outstanding soldiers and Mikasa Ackerman was no exception. She was just a normal teenager who happened to be particularly adept, Levi forcefully concluded. That was it.  

But he was still markedly unconvinced; her movements were too fine-tuned, too sophisticated for a typical recruit, even one considered unusually gifted. And she reminded Levi too much of himself.

He clenched his teeth in uncertainty, faint bewilderment gnawing on the edges of his brain. He knitted his eyebrows together and ran a hand over his face, exacerbated that he was distracted by this one girl. A _recruit_. Not even a soldier yet.

_Could she be the same as me?_

His mind chuckled at the thought and obligingly plucked at distant recollections from his already fragmented memory. He knew nothing of his past before twelve years old, and though he could sometimes pull up a hazy perception of feeling _something_ during his childhood days, no clear and coherent remembrances were forthcoming. He had woken up dazed and confused in the Underground District one day, instantly noticing that he was surrounded by a gang of teenage miscreants, sneers plastered on their young faces. Upon violent provocation, he had promptly challenged them back, taking on six of the perpetrators at once and dropping them groaning at his feet in a matter of minutes, chest heaving but snarling triumphantly. Apparently, the older kids had been impressed by his efficient fighting and strategic skill, and adopted him directly into their clique of child criminals. So he lived as a delinquent in the Underground below Wall Sina for years, all thoughts and queries of what had happened to him before age twelve abandoned and shoved to a sharp corner in his mind.

During the adrenalizing time he spent with the group, most of the members had acknowledged his apparent innate affinity for the stolen maneuvering gear, and began to delegate the more complex and demanding errands to him, puzzled though they were at the exceedingly short amount of time he had taken to master it. According to one of the senior members of the gang, the average amount of time to completely perfect the difficult body maneuvering took around three years for the new kids they picked up. It had taken him one.

_Could she have possibly been in the Underground as well? Mastering the 3DMG before she enlisted? Perhaps a rival gang?_

He raked through his mind, trying to recall if he had seen a slight girl with black hair falling in her slanted eyes and wandering the streets of the filthy district, or noticed her during confrontations with competing thugs. Coming up with nothing substantial, he frowned and closed his bedroom door, feeling the splintering grain of the wood against his fingers.

_She’s just a talented kid. That’s it._

Levi unhooked the straps of his gear, unconsciously running his hands through the familiar routine, and he dropped his jacket and cloak to the floor, loosening the buttons of his shirt.

_It doesn’t matter. She’ll join the Military Brigade in a month anyway._

He stretched out on his bed, rubbing his left arm and feeling the long white scar that ran down the skin, thin and puckered. He didn’t know where he had gotten it from, and since it never gave him any physical problems, he supposed he didn’t really care. But it consistently raised questions from those who were lucky, or close enough to him, to catch a glimpse of the Captain’s seldom exposed flesh. _Old battle wound from earlier_ he’d always explain harshly, immediately covering the unsightly thing and silencing any other prying onlookers. And for some stupid reason, it never failed to astonish them that _Humanity’s Strongest Soldier_ could sometimes become vulnerable to attack and injury.

_“To them, you’re an infallible and inviolable hero, Levi. Akin to something like a god. Do you hear them? They scream for you.”_

_“I’m just a normal human being, Erwin. I mean nothing more to them than a way out of these godforsaken Walls. I’m just a well-trained human.”_

_“ **Are** you human though?”_

Levi gathered the white sheets closer to him as he remembered Erwin’s offbeat question, Mikasa Ackerman shoved into a crevice lacing his brain for now. Of course he was human. What would he be otherwise? And why would Erwin even question his obvious humanity? Though he knew the Commander was always a few steps ahead and constantly strategizing in every occasion, the chilling inquiry had been more than disconcerting at the time. _Did the Commander know something about himself that he did not?_ True, Levi acknowledged the fact that he himself was not like most other soldiers, even the odd ones in the Scouting Legion, with his uncanny fighting and maneuvering expertise, but why would that prompt such a question? Surely it was possible for other members of the military to achieve ability at his level; he had just been the first to show it. Though he trusted Erwin, and hardly doubted the older man’s judgment, he was a cryptic leader and never revealed all that he knew about something. _It’s possible._ But it would be pointless to try to force out any information that his superior withheld, and Levi let the matter slip from his tired head, choosing to forget about the strange incident. _He will tell me if he deems fit._ He turned over on the mattress, trying to find a few hours of sleep before training in the late morning.   

He managed to drift into a light and uneasy sleep as the sun began to rise, but his dark dreams were filled with long needles and unending pain, and men in white coats with ghostly smiles hovered above him, just beyond his short reach.

It felt strangely reminiscent. 

* * *

 

She wanted to scream.

She wanted to cry.

She wanted to sprout wings and drag Eren and Armin away from the grotesque reach of the two advancing Titans, but as her brain calculated the distance she needed to run to reach them, her heart shrank as it realized she would be far too late.

Instead, she would be forced to witness the two people she loved the most be gruesomely eaten by a monster, while she stood atop Eren’s steaming Titan body letting the deepest despair claim her being, and drown her in the worst anguish she had ever known. Her shaking legs denied her any further movement, and she could only whisper devastated pleas for swift deaths of her remaining family in short and heavy gasps, breath failing to invade her smoky lungs.        

To her abject horror, one of the beasts stretched out a thin arm toward her debilitated brother and friend as they slowly stumbled away from Eren’s Titan body, and she screeched out their names, steeling herself for the worst.

But it never came.

The whizzing sound of straining maneuvering gear that she had become so acquainted with reached her ringing ears, and she whipped around her drooping head, tearing her gaze from Eren and Armin’s small forms and up toward the white sky. She squinted through salty tears as she heard the satisfying sound of metal slicing through thick flesh, and openly gaped as both of the grinning Titans teetered forward, massive arcs of blood spraying impressively from their necks through the air and dotting her uniform. Seeing no one, her legs suddenly came to life and carried her down the disintegrating body to clutch at her brother’s frail form.

“Mikasa?” she heard Armin ask, frantically looking around in confusion. But she shook his shoulder, revealing her presence at his side and that she wasn’t the one that felled the gigantic creatures. She knelt against Armin, breathing heavily and relief flooding through her chest. Eren was _safe_. _Alive_.

She looked up to where the giants had fallen, and as the steam cleared, a light figure landed silently on one of the Titans. His back was turned toward them, the green cloak rippling in the moist air currents.

“That’s…” she started, still panting, and for once she found no words to continue.

“–the Wings…of Freedom…” Eren weakly supplied for her, and she could only stare at the figure, scalding blood dripping from the two blades clasped in his hands. When the soldier turned to look over his shoulder at the trio, she felt her memory explode.

 _Those intense gray eyes. That cool and haughty expression on his indecipherable face. **You**_. _I **know** you._

“ _Hey, you brats_ ,” the man ground out severely.

Mikasa could do nothing but remain paralyzed where she knelt, mesmerized by her recognition.

“ _What’s going on here?_ ”

She narrowed her eyes at their savior, unsure whether she should be awed by his beyond perfect timing and stupefying aggression, or enraged at the Scouting Legion’s uncharacteristic belatedness. Every muscle in her body was tensed with suspicion verging on the edge of animosity, and she gripped the handles of her blades instinctively though her reflexes refused to comply. Something bubbled beneath her intuition, wordlessly warning her subconscious.

This man was dangerous, yet strangely enticing. And though she would never admit it, she felt startlingly beguiled by his presence.    

* * *

Of course, those strikingly foreign feelings were swept away the second the heel of his boot connected with the side of Eren’s face. Her brother’s head snapped sharply to the side, his mouth showering saliva mixed with scarlet blood, and she gawked in seething rancor.  

_I’ll kill him! I’ll rip his throat out!_

Murderous thoughts leaked into her normally composed mind, and her fingers twitched at her sides for a weapon, _anything_ , to take this shorty _down._ But Armin held her back, knowing full well what she was capable of, and though she resisted against his grip, her conscience told her that now was definitely not the time to enact her revenge.

The brutal assault continued, and against her will she found she couldn’t coerce her aching eyes to look elsewhere. So she was compelled to watch her brother become the defenseless victim of this pitiless man, her emotions raging within her and threatening to spark into defensive action.

“Stop…Levi…!” the Commander of the Military Police Brigade stood rooted to his place, stunned beyond belief and mouth agape.

 _Levi. Levi. Levi._ Mikasa branded the name on her skull, etching the letters deep into her mentality, ignoring the compromising between the Generalissimo and Commander Erwin Smith of the Scouting Legion. She silently fumed, still restrained by Armin, mentally throwing every curse she knew at this _Levi_.

He suddenly swiveled his frigid eyes to her place, and she met them in a savage glower, vowing retribution.

_If you don’t get devoured by a Titan first, Captain **Levi** …_

He turned back to the Generalissimo, seemingly unaware of her scathing enmity, awaiting the final decision.

_You’ll wish you had…by the time I’m done with you._

* * *

 

It was _her._ Mikasa Ackerman. First of the top ten. The _Girl Worth a Hundred Soldiers_.

_So, Miss Ackerman. It seems you **are** something quite special, and I have underestimated you. I will not be making the same mistake again. _

Levi urged his horse faster, racing over the abandoned farmland within Wall Rose to the castle that was now home to his Special Operations Squad and the rest of the Scouting Legion. And Mikasa Ackerman.

_“Adopted by the Jaeger family after her parents were murdered by human traffickers. She and Eren were found in a small shack with three bloody bodies, each having been stabbed to death. It seems she and Eren had retaliated and killed her parents’ murderers in an act of self-preservation.”_

Erwin’s voice resounded throughout Levi’s head, echoing with ominous implications.

_She had been forced to murder when she was nine._

Levi gripped the reins uncomfortably in his hands, calmly alarmed at this girl’s sudden lack of inhibition. Though he admired her resolve, a few small details niggled at his mind, triggering a cautionary cognizance.

_“There was a knife stuck in the back of one man who was kneeling face first in a corner…the handle was cracked and splintered, rendering it unusable. Eren explained to me that Mikasa had gripped the handle so tightly that it broke, and her foot had had so much pressure on it that it cracked the floorboards of the shack as well. Her force was so powerful that she managed to drive the knife through his heart from the back and push him from the middle of the room to the corner.”_

_“You expect me to believe that a **nine-year-old girl** committed murder and was strong enough to shove a grown man’s dead body that far?”_

_“Why would Eren lie about an incident like that? Watch over them both. If Eren is kept safe, Mikasa will comply. We need her on our side, Captain.”_

Levi dug his heels into the sides of his horse absentmindedly. _Powerful enough to break the wood of the knife handle and throw that man away from her at nine years old._ It just wasn’t…human.

_“ **Are** you human though?” _

The words of the Commander’s earlier question pounded themselves on Levi’s brain, refusing to dissipate.

Since observing her skill during the Battle of Trost District, bystanders had begun to whisper parallels between Mikasa Ackerman and himself, and though he didn’t care about the rumors, he was more disturbed by the truths behind them.      

_How had she acquired such skill? How?_

Levi clamped his mouth shut, eyes trained on the looming castle before him. They would be leaving for the 57th Expedition tomorrow morning, with orders to capture a traitor, and he should have been concentrating on the difficulty of the mission.

But his mind flurried with images of _Mikasa Ackerman_ , her face too stern for a teenager, and her prowess comparable to his. For some reason, he couldn’t shake the prospect of this seemingly deliberate coincidence, and he shook his head in irritation, troubled by the amount of precious time he had lost engrossed in this girl.

_Just who are you, Mikasa Ackerman?_


	3. Propinquity

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would like to apologize for the insanely ridiculous amount of time it took for me to update this! It's been such a crazy past few months (college graduation...it's cool and all to have the President of the United States speak at your ceremony, but the security is AWFUL) that I just didn't have enough time. But Mika (author of Fukushuu; if you haven't read it, DO IT NOW) has been on my case about it and I was feeling so many RivaMika feels, I just had to.
> 
> Anyway, enough of that; with the direction I'm planning on taking for Convergence, setting things up is crucial (at least to me), so that's what this chapter is all about. The next chapters will diverge from canon events (maybe a few inclusions of important ones) and focus more on original plot.
> 
> A huge thanks to my absolutely wonderful beta/editor, Midori Aoi (on fanfiction.net and k-lionheart on tumblr), she's given me so many helpful suggestions and compliments, I can't even begin to thank her enough!

When she heard it, she knew at once it was him. But it _couldn’t_ be, because she had heard that Eren was with Captain Levi’s squad, and they were some of the best soldiers the Scouting Legion could offer. If they had failed to protect him…

The deafening roar made her forget her orders to move out of the forest and she swung backward on her cables, ignoring Sasha’s pleas for her to come back. If Eren was in danger again, _this time_ she’d be there to aid him. Flashbacks of the Siege of Trost District flooded into her mind, the bitter pain opening a fresh wound into her conscience. Her breaths came in quick and uneven as she raced through the trees alone, desperately searching for the Rogue Titan.

Her heart pounded and she tightened her grip on the blades, the hard metal feeling oddly comforting. She could hear a strange conglomeration of thundering and roaring ahead, and soft billows of steam grew denser as she neared.

But what awaited her was something she hadn’t prepared for, not even after that dreadful day during the Siege. Her mind crumbled.

She had arrived a minute too late.

Eren was alive, the body of his Titan form smoking and beaten, slowly disintegrating into nothing, but he looked slightly dazed and exhausted, the red tendons securing him to the back of the neck shredded and torn. But then he was gone, disappearing into the maw of a distinctly female-looking Titan, its blond hair drooping to cover the face.

She inhaled sharply, her worst nightmare come true, and this time, she _was_ forced to watch her brother be devoured by a monster, his booted feet sinking beneath the Titan’s teeth. The Female Titan stared at her through dark eyes, but she didn’t pursue Mikasa. Instead, she wiped her mouth in a somewhat mischievous manner, blood speckling into the hot air, and turned the other way into the depths of the forest.  

Everything was lost. Mikasa’s mind turned dark, curses lining her brain and blinding her sight. Fury and rage became her as she pursued the Aberrant and she screamed at it, unintelligible words flying from her mouth. She slashed and cut and hacked at its skin, red fluttering through the air and landing steaming on her uniform, but nothing seemed to slow it down or even injure it.

_I can’t…! Eren…He can’t be! You’re still alive! You **have** to be!_

And then suddenly, she felt weightless, rushing through the trees in the opposite direction she had meant to take. The voice was back. That smooth, deep, almost melodic voice she had nightmares about.

“Fall back for now,” it said, and she didn’t have to look at the face to know it was _him_.

An arm held her from falling and it was digging into her side, the blade held expertly away from her person. They slowed almost to a stop but still kept the Female Titan in sight.

“Is he dead?” Captain Levi released her and they launched back into the thick of the trees, firing their cables parallel to the ground in their haste.

“Negative. Sir.” Mikasa acknowledged, temporarily forcing vengeful thoughts from her mind. She still didn’t fully trust the Captain, unsure of his true objective with Eren, but right now he was her only hope in retrieving him and delivering justice to the Female Titan. “Eren is contained in her…mouth. He is _alive_.” She almost choked. “But if _you had performed your duty to protect him properly_ , this wouldn’t have happened!” She bit out, refusing to look at the older man.

Levi said nothing. It was true; he supposed if he had had better judgment, Eren possibly would not have ended up the Female Titan’s hostage. But he turned around in midair and faced the girl, the swords trembling in her hand, threatening to reach out and cut his throat. “You…were at the trial?”

She answered with a slight nod, and he narrowed his eyes. Mikasa kept the eye contact, refusing to submit to his obvious scrutiny. He looked away after a few seconds, and to her slight disappointment, she saw nothing but indifference on his face.

On the inside however, Levi was anything but disinterested.

_Mikasa Ackerman._

He’d seen her harassing the Female Titan, thinking she was one of his own, but as he’d neared to stop her, he’d noticed the black hair and intense eyes. His skin crawled with realization. He had never seen her in battle before, and the way she used the 3DMG and handled the blades so efficiently annoyed him. She was good. Too good. And though her movements weren’t as perfected as his, he recognized some of his own preferred methods in them.

He wondered how. How was so much strength produced from that slender body?

Ignoring the thick tension she was purposely creating, he relaxed and adjusted his grasp on the swords, preparing for confrontation with the Aberrant. Mikasa Ackerman would come later; if she said Eren was alive, they’d find out.

“Draw her attention,” he ordered, making sure she heard his words clearly. She was enraged and her judgment wouldn’t be as acute. “I’ll attack from behind.”

Mikasa lifted her head in response and ejected more gas from her tanks to catch up to the Titan. Though it looked tired and had dropped its speed considerably, it was still keeping a solid pace. Mikasa wondered what the Captain could do to stop its advance.

She swung in front of the beast, dropping into its sight on the left, and met its eyes hard and determined.

_You monster._

Levi silently appeared behind it and she gave him a nod, assuring him she was where she wanted to be and knew what she was doing.

Without hesitation he jerked into action, dodging a well-aimed punch from the Female Titan, and landed on her fist. He whirled the blades, slicing up the length of her arm and chunks of flesh and matted blood sprayed the ground. Plunging a sword through one of the vulnerable eyes, he twisted it and pulled it out roughly again, inwardly disgusted at the dampness seeping through his sleeve.

_A demon to conquer demons._ He would become the very thing he hated to avenge his dead comrades, and if this was the only way, then so be it. Their laughs, their smiles, their tiny mannerisms he had consistently complained about before; he would never see them again. His face darkened, not just from the bloodstains streaking down his cheeks, and his mind only knew one thing: _revenge._

Mikasa tried to stay out of the way, finally witnessing Humanity’s Strongest at work, and she couldn’t help but be awed and daunted at the raw power he dealt. A prickly feeling crept over her skin and she felt her mouth slightly drop in wonder as he blurred past her, his face finally stretched in some form of emotion. Blood had smeared across one of his eyes and onto his cheek and his teeth were clenched in the exertion, but he paid it no mind, his gray eyes dilated to almost nothing as he fled from her sight.

_This_ was why he was called the strongest of the soldiers, the man equivalent to a whole brigade, and Mikasa’s lips parted in sudden apprehension. _No man_ should possess the amount of strength Fate had dealt him, and she dubiously wondered why Captain Levi had been.

The menacing thoughts were whisked away as she noticed the Female Titan had fallen against a tree, the shoulder muscles displaying large, neat gauges from Levi’s cuts and her arms hanging uselessly at her sides.

_I can reach her neck!_

Her mind made up, she flung herself toward the exposed area, anchoring the blades and preparing for impact.

_You…you…! Give him back!_

A large, bony hand hurled itself up in front of her, the last of the Titan’s strength devoted to stopping this frightfully annoying little bug. Mikasa felt her stomach drop. Though she was considered one of the best at handling the gear, there was no time to change course and maneuver away from the obstacle and she would be crushed against the appendage; her last stand against the enemy.

A whizzing sound and a loud _fuck!_ met her ears, and she was shoved out of the way, a firm hand heaving her away from the collision. Turning in her fall as she tried to right herself, she caught a glimpse of the Captain, his face contorted in brief agony, and she heard an alarmingly loud cracking sound ripple through the hot air as he collided into the raised hand. It didn’t last long, and he launched himself from the impact, flying toward the Female Titan’s mouth and slashing through it completely. Her stomach twisted.

From her place against a tree, Mikasa could see Eren slide from the mouth, an unconscious and slippery mess, and her insides scrambled to find their correct places within her body.

_Alive. Alive and…mostly unharmed._

“We’re getting the hell out of here,” Levi hurtled past her, carrying Eren. Blood now streaked down both sides of his face and she met his eyes in a grateful stare.

Perhaps the Captain wasn’t a truly cold-hearted man. After watching him face the Female Titan, she was certain none of them could stand in his way. _Was he truly unbeatable?_ But no. After her senseless mistake in thinking that she could fell the formidable Titan herself, he had sustained an injury in protecting her, and from what she heard, surely not a painless one. She winced slightly as she snuck a glance at him; his left foot was dangling at an awkward angle and she was certain it was broken.

Nonetheless, she owed him her life and Eren’s now, a debt she was loathe to repay, considering she’d silently promised him pain after his needless assault on Eren. How on earth would she ever _repay_ Captain Levi of the Scouting Legion? He was _Humanity’s Strongest_ and didn’t need _saving_. But she couldn’t deny the fact that she was appreciative, however grudgingly, to this man, and that she would make it up to him. Somehow. He held her _alive_ brother in his arms and that was all that mattered.

“Ackerman.” He snapped, interrupting her reticent introspection. “Move your ass.”

Her heart sped up for some unknown reason and something in her arm throbbed. At the same time, she noticed that though Levi was holding Eren in one of his arms, the other hung limply at his side; it was flopping oddly in the acceleration of the 3DMG. A strange phenomenon she thought, since every time she had seen him previously, he had held himself rather tightly, always keeping his limbs rigid and his movements pointed.

The pulsating in her arm beat deeper into her flesh, and the slight cramp crawled to her elbow until it encompassed her entire forearm. _Could he possibly…?_ The thought crossed her mind, this weird coincidence, and Mikasa vaguely wondered if the Captain was suffering from the same pounding in his skin.

For some odd reason, she had a feeling this was just the beginning of encounters she would share with the Captain.

* * *

 

_“We made a mistake.”_

_“No, we didn’t. We made a fucking **huge-ass** mistake. Whose idea was it to administer a second dose of the serum to that twelve-year old kid?”_

_“We got approval from the Military Police **and** the King! It wasn’t just **my** decision! We thought–”_

_“Yes we **thought** and we were wrong.”_

_“Just because the kid grew up and managed to actually **live** with the serum in his veins doesn’t mean we screwed up.”_

_“Of course it does! Because you know what he’s out there doing now? **Slaughtering** our perfectly good test subjects and being **praised** for it! Haven’t you heard?”_

_“And just what are we supposed to do about that? If we interfere with the Scouting Legion, Erwin Smith will be onto us in less time it took to initiate this program!”_

_“So you’re proposing to just sit here and wait it out? While **Levi Ackerman** flies around the Walls as **Humanity’s Strongest**? Never knowing that **we** created him, that son of a bitch? That **we** are responsible for his so-called inhuman strength?!”_

_“I’m not saying that **we** should interfere with the Scouting Legion. Now that they’re beyond the Walls on an Expedition, it’s the perfect time to get in contact with our Partner.”_

_“You mean… **him**? Can we trust him? He’s just as dangerous as Levi.”_

_“I think he’d understand perfectly. It’s been a while since the two have had contact, so the reunion should be…er, not a happy one.”_

_“And what about the other one? The girl we let go, too? I hear she’s in the Scouting Legion as well. What was her name again?”_

_“Also Ackerman. Mikasa, I think. A rare Asian beauty, it’s said. Too bad she’s infected.”_

_“Are they related? I don’t remember seeing any connections between the two when we checked her background. Funny how it all comes back to him, isn’t it?”_

_“If they are related, we didn’t do our research as well as we thought. It’s entirely possible, but the bodies of the boy’s parents were brought to Headquarters, and the girl’s parents were alive when we injected her. Though our intel suggests they were murdered six years ago now.”_

_“Pity. The mother was a looker, wasn’t she? Anyway, with their age difference, they can’t be more than distant cousins. But it doesn’t matter.”_

_“You’re right. I’ll send a message to him through telegram, coded, and see what he says. Hopefully he’s willing to help us out. After all he’s been through with the boy…”_

_“And if he does manage to capture Ackerman?”_

_“Which one?”_

_“…Why not both? If Levi turned out like this and he’s only what…what’s his age? Mid-twenties? And she’s fifteen…it could end up disastrous if they are allowed to live past thirty.”_

_“So both? I’m not sure he’ll agree to capturing one of his own…”_

_“Maybe not yet. Levi’s our priority. He only has a few years left. Get him back down here and we’ll suck that Titan’s strength from his blood. He’ll be just like everyone else when we’re done.”_

_“Fine. Capture Levi. Leave the girl. I hope you’re right. We could have a major dilemma on our hands.”_

_“Our Partner will do his job. I’ve no doubt he’ll hand Levi over to us in a matter of months.”_

_“ **Months?!** ”_

_“These things take time. And from what I’ve heard from Above, Levi’s one real bastard. Tough on the battlefield and even tougher to negotiate with. Our Partner will have to plan this out extremely carefully with all perspectives taken care of.”_

_“And Erwin Smith? How do you propose to get him out of the way? Levi answers to Smith alone.”_

_“All in good time. We just have to bide our patience. Perfect that aging serum. We’ll hold the Scouting Legion in the palm of our hand in a year.”_

* * *

 

Levi sat at the worn desk in the room he had been assigned to in Headquarters, his head swimming with the ashen faces of his squad. Gunther and Erd. Petra and Auruo. They all smiled back at him hauntingly, their green cloaks rippling behind them in whatever false wind he was imagining, and he gritted his teeth so rigidly his temples hurt. The feeling of utter despair felt perilously foreign to him, so much so, it wriggled effortlessly into his mind and settled there with no intention of leaving.

They deserved so much better. So much _more_.

He had thought they were indestructible. _Mistake number one_.

He cursed his inability to get drunk and clenched the empty glass tighter in his fist. He had failed them. Worse, he had failed to carry out the mission they had been assigned, that Erwin had entrusted them to complete. They had died for _nothing_.

Thick sheets of paper scattered across the wooden desk, condolence letters he was in charge of writing and sending out. He slammed a hand on them, the pain traveling up his arm and jarring his chest. It reverberated through his body, sharp and yet simultaneously dull. Anguish tightened its hold on his conscience even more. Four of the letters were stacked neatly in a corner awaiting his signature and ready to receive their stitched companions in mourning; his squad’s families would curse him till the end of days for leading their loved ones into death, that much he was certain.

The Captain snarled, a savage sound tearing through his lips. He flung the glass away from him, the grief and inward torment finally too much to keep contained. It shattered against the near wall, exploding into tiny fragments. Some lodged themselves into the grain of the wood, but the rest clattered to the ground, leaving dents where they dropped. He ignored the sound, instead feeling a bizarre sense of release in the sudden cacophony.

His breath came out hot and ragged, and he dropped to his knees, miserable and defeated.

_Life goes on. If only I deserved it._

He supposed this was his fate, to watch everyone around him die while he was forced to continue, slowly letting the suffering and depression consume him. He’d gladly take it, if that was the only way to repay his friends.

He untied the cravat, bloody useless thing it was, and undid the small buttons on his shirt, stripping it from beneath the leather straps of the wearable 3DMG. He tightened the leather across his chest, waist, and legs, pulling it so tight it hurt to stretch and breathe comfortably, and wrapped his hands in thin cloth strips, the routine movements coming awkwardly to him this time.

_Petra. Your father…Why would he say such a thing…?_

He fell to the floor, rolling into a pushup position and began counting, disregarding the tight pain around his body and more acutely in his left ankle, and dismissing it as a means to become even stronger, his way of promising _no more failures_ to his deceased squad. He owed them that much.

No tears leaked from his darkened gray eyes, but the blood within him pumped freely and out of the cut under his eye. Red dripped from the wound, staining the floor beneath him, but he ignored that too, choosing to drown himself in the physical pain he was inflicting upon himself as punishment. Seeing the blood reminded him that he was human, and that though he was Humanity’s Strongest, he could only take so much.

_Guilty._

As he neared three hundred, his left foot finally gave out behind him and he crashed to the floor, his chest hitting the rough stones and the impact knocking the breath from his expired lungs. He lay there, exhausted, his chest heaving and bruised. Usually by this point, one of his squad would enter his room and ask to spar with him, one of their ways of helping the Captain through his grief. But tonight, no one would be coming, and he felt the weight of disgrace and shame rest on his back, taunting him.

Even so, one flicker of hope remained safe from destruction in his troubled mind, and Levi knew she wouldn’t be leaving anytime soon, so long as he remained Eren’s guardian. Erwin had warned him about Mikasa; he had correctly guessed that she would follow Eren, no matter what she was told by her superiors. Levi supposed it would be beneficial to have her close to him anyway. He would most likely be granted another squad of his choosing, and he had already placed her at the top of his list of potential subordinates. If she was forced away from Eren, it could compromise her ability and the Scouting Legion would lose a valuable asset.

Because that was what she was, wasn’t it? That was what they all were. Precious _resources_.

Not that he was doubting the Scouting Legion. Or even Erwin. But from a soldier’s standpoint, they were all expendable, and Levi had accepted long ago that any day could be his last. It was sad, really.

However, this one, this soldier, this _girl_ was like him in ways that were too uncanny to be considered accidental. He recognized his own thoughts spurting from her carefully concealed mind, his own actions and reactions mirrored in her (had his eyes lied to him when he saw her clutching her own left arm, the emotion of agony carefully concealed in her face?). The two of them would probably be able to pass as family members had it not been for her age, he thought grimly, her image appearing gently in his mind. If she managed to stay alive for a few more years, he was absolutely sure there would be another “Humanity’s Strongest” to take his place.

_The signs were all there_.

So _why_ did it unnerve him so?

Perhaps they would find out. Right now the future of the Scouting Legion looked rather bleak indeed, and he wasn’t sure what Erwin was planning to do about handing Eren over to the central government. Of course, that would never happen, as the Military Police were greedy, sick bastards, and Erwin wasn’t daft enough to trust them.

Sitting up, he pulled at his hair, imperceptibly noticing it was in need of a cut, and heaved a thick inhale. He dragged a sticky hand across his face and bowed his head, feeling the drops of sweat slide down his nose.

_She_ littered his fragile mind, her infuriated features blossoming into deference and slight reprieve as he had shot past her with Eren in the forest. He had seen her in her rawest state, full of emotion and revenge, and though he had been impressed with the way she had handled herself in the dire situation, what really drew him in was the way she could express herself so… _freely_. He had already known her as the stoic, unforgiving soldier during their brief stay at the castle before the 57 th Expedition, but when they had been alone in the forest, she had suddenly opened up, dropping her usual indifferent glare. He remembered a multitude of emotions fleeting across her face as they raced through the trees, though she never voiced them, and her scathing words belied her true sentiments. Mikasa Ackerman intrigued him, and he felt fascinated by her character, almost _captivated_ , to the point where he began to think he was ill in the head.

_Was he **attracted**? _

_Attraction_ was a disease; his former master in the Underground had grilled that into Levi’s head until he was sure his protégé regarded it as truth, and it was almost always _fatal_. Because attraction led to _temptation_ , and then _passion_ , and finally, _vulnerability_. And Captain Levi of the Scouting Legion had stripped himself of any weakness, except in the inescapable deficiencies of physical strength. So what in the _hell_ was he feeling right now? If he took his master’s mantra as law, wouldn’t that mean that feeling _anything_ was considered a shortcoming?

Levi wrung his hands—a persistent bad habit—and unconsciously tugged on the straps of the gear, freeing himself from the restraints.

Was it even _legal?_

He surrendered to his traitorous mind, fantasizing about a perilous affair between the two of them, and sank into the darkest depths of his intellect, the treasonous thoughts softly teasing him with promises of _happiness_. Even if he was slightly _attracted—_ was it—to this _girl_ , he was convinced the liaison between them wouldn’t receive joyous celebration. Relationships between members of the Scouting Legion usually ended in death and worse, unnecessary _sacrifice_ , and he had given up on finding such a thing long before joining the military.

Besides, love wasn’t something he was familiar with, save for the curious warmth he had felt with his former squad, and he wasn’t even sure if that had been the faint beginnings of the poisonous emotion. He was a bitter, brooding _man_ , perfectly acrimonious in every sense of the word, so harsh that no one could actually cherish him as their own.So whatever he was _feeling_ for Mikasa Ackerman could never be equivalent, and he dismissed the cursory fragments of distorted bliss his brain beleaguered him with as perfunctory nuisances.

He shed his remaining clothes and stood in front of the full-length mirror, naked, and he stared at the reflection; his body was beset with supple muscle, idle in his unplanned languor, and small cuts and bruises dotted the pale skin, small reminders of past mistakes he had made in the field. The biggest scar still grinned at him from his left arm, and upon noticing it, he covered it with a shaking hand. He still refused to believe it was something of importance. It was just a _scar_.

Glancing at the small clock in the corner, Levi conceded to his exhaustion. It was five in the morning and thoughts of Mikasa and his squad still harrowed him; sleep seemed just another obstacle to hurdle, but he supposed a few hours would be satisfactory.

Tomorrow he would assign his new squad, and as Mikasa Ackerman’s sincere face drifted across the ceiling, ghostly fingers glided over his skin with violently reminiscent tenderness.

* * *

 

This feeling was to be her undoing. Her normally steady heart beat unnaturally fast and its pounding was enervating to the point of debility. All because of _him_ , and she didn’t know _why_.

After they had returned to the old castle after the Expedition, she had refused to leave Eren’s side until Hanji Zoe had confirmed that he was physically healthy and robust enough to leave bed. Then she had retreated to her room, content with her brother’s state, and immersed herself in the safety of her thoughts, speculation melding with truth until she wasn’t sure which was which anymore.

_That’s_ what he had done to her: completely obliterated the concrete affirmation she had had of him from before, that volatile and astringent personality she had glued to his being from the very beginning. Because what she had seen in that forest had been nothing short of amazing.

_Capricious_ wasn’t a word she would use to describe the Captain, but his behavior had wholly changed (at least, the way she saw it) when she had provoked him.

_“If you had performed your duty to protect him properly…”_

Her own words slithered across her head, and she wondered how they could have had such an effect on him. Did he know something she didn’t?

Of course he did, but it didn’t phase her in recognizing it. Superiors were known to withhold information from subordinates and she couldn’t expect special treatment, even though she had proven herself worthy of their immediate respect.

What _did_ unnerve her was her body and the way it was reacting. Feeling the touch of his stiff arm as he carried her away from the Female Titan…she admitted she hadn’t felt unprotected, but something _more_. Because even though her heart had been pounding from the exhilaration and the stress of the situation, she _knew_ it had to have something to do with her companion; she just wasn’t sure why. It unnerved her.

Eren held the utmost respect and admiration for Captain Levi, and now, she was beginning to think she knew why. Yet for a different reason.

She was inextricably drawn to him, and this propinquity they had quietly established felt so naïve and innocent, like something from a fairy tale gone horribly wrong.

Because for some reason, they _understood_ each other. Few words had passed between them throughout the whole ordeal with the Female Titan, but she knew and felt in her core that he had perceived her suppressed senses, and she the same.

And then there was her uncharacteristic lapse in judgment and his immediate jump to shield her from death. To him, she thought she had been a perfect stranger, and for all she knew she still could be, and yet he had purposefully sacrificed his wellbeing to ensure her survival. Humanity’s Strongest was now incapacitated because of her.

Mikasa rubbed her shoulders in the slight wind coming through the open window. She shivered, less from the chilly fingers of the breeze and more from the complexity of her mind’s turmoil. Captain Levi pervaded her steadfast mind all too easily these days, a feat not even Eren could attest to, and she vaguely wondered if she was obsessed.

True, he was dangerously alluring, his coarse leadership and nonchalant attitude tempting even the most tenacious of admirers, including, Mikasa recalled, that pretty subordinate of his, Petra Ral. Mikasa had seen the Captain and his squad in the days before the calamitous venture beyond the Walls, and she had noticed the faint look of longing in the woman’s countenance every time he happened to walk past. It was the same gaze she had found herself succumbing to when she thought Eren wasn’t looking.

But this _obsession_ , if she could even call it that, wasn’t derived from any sort of romantic implications. She didn’t have a _crush_. That was absurd. Especially between an officer and a soldier. That was laughably foolish.

Nevertheless, she couldn’t deny that she was attracted to him. If she was being painfully honest with herself, you could even say she had been involuntarily _seduced_ by the vitriolic Captain, her mind constantly infested with his very existence.

Mikasa squeezed her eyes shut, trying to force down the illogical thoughts. _What’s wrong with me? Am I really so **childish**? I just want to know more. _

_Ah, knowing is treacherous. Are you certain you want to give in to your curiosities?_ A somber voice—her own, she ironically noted—lilted from the back of her consciousness.

_There is **no** harm in knowing more. If that’s all it takes to ease my head, I’d rather give in to curiosity than sitting idle. _

Morning was slowly approaching, and she sat up suddenly in bed, the night wasted from reflecting on her disturbing distraction. Orders would come early today, and she felt something enormous was about to descend upon her and her teammates, something unavoidable.

She still had a few rare hours of isolation, doom and catastrophe seeming so far away in the confines of her little room. So, she fell back upon the mattress, strangely peaceful.

Yet, the moment her head reached the safety of her pillow, a flash streaked across her eyes, smearing into a discernible vision laden with white. Or was it a dream? Was she suffering from some sort of post-traumatic stress?

A view of a white room unfolded in her eyes, seeing and yet…not.

_Were her eyes even open?_

_A man appeared above her, holding a long instrument, a needle of some sort. White light blinded her and she twisted on the rough pallet she was lying on, trying to sit up to get a better view of her surroundings. The man shoved her back down and murmured something incoherent. Before she could open her mouth to object to whatever she was being subjected to, his eyes crinkled with a smile hidden beneath his mask and he plunged the syringe into her arm._

_Excruciating pain she had never known flew to the tips of her fingers and toes and she screamed a deathly wail, the word WHY etching itself in little stars in her eyes._

Then it was over before it had begun.

Mikasa scrambled from the bed, flinging the sheets onto the ground, the guarantee of security dissipating with her peace of mind. She was sweating, the cold perspiration caressing her tightened skin, and her breaths came in shallow. _Fear_ crept in, and it sat in the center of her brain, ridiculing her inability to alleviate the pure agony she had thought she felt. She had, hadn’t she?

Checking her arm for any marks of the needle jab, she stood in the middle of the room, unsure of whether she should call for help. It _had_ been a vision and it had seemed so real, so _authentic_ that she was sure it was a memory. How else, and _why_ else, would she have been able to recall it? No dream from sleep could compare to the genuineness, and the apparition of the man in the mask seemed so palpable, she could have reached out and slapped his monstrous face away from her.

A quick gasp escaped her chapped lips and she begged someone, _anyone_ to gather her close in comfort. However, she was among strangers and battle-hardened soldiers, none of whom would take precious time out of their day to ease a frightened young girl from nightmares.

_What have I done wrong? Am I being punished for my failures? Haunted by hallucinations?_

She gathered her legs close to her chest, and for the second time since her parents’ murder, Mikasa Ackerman cried.

* * *

 

Levi dropped his opponent to the ground in a wheezing heap, staring hard at the taller man and fighting to keep a steady balance on his feet; the left foot was still giving him problems a week after the incident but he refused to believe it would permanently sideline him from battle. Strain and tension from light practice couldn’t possibly do anything more to damage the muscle, so he had resumed a moderate amount of training, making sure to keep the pain at bay.

He nodded at the defeated soldier who scurried off toward the barracks, clutching his side.

_Tough luck._

“Sir,” A quiet voice said from behind him, accompanied by a small tap on his shoulder.

“Ackerman,” he acknowledged quickly, his heart jumping into his throat when he recognized the red scarf. _Why is **she** here?_

“I haven’t gotten the chance to…apologize for my _error_ that day. I am sorry that you suffered for it.” Her eyes met his in a serious stare, and for a second he thought he saw pity flicker across them.

“Save it,” He said sharply and immediately regretted it. “I’ve had worse.” He studied her face, looking for any sort of feedback.

Mikasa said nothing in reply and continued to bore holes into his eyes, until–“I understand, Captain. I just wanted to voice my regret for your needless injury.” She shifted her weight and clasped her hands behind her back. “Will that be all? Sir.”

Levi narrowed his eyes, suspicious of her confession. He turned away from her and dug a heel into the dry dirt of the sparring ring, unconvinced that that was the only reason she had come to speak to him. She had sought him out for some other intention; it was scribbled on her face. “I accept your apology. Dismissed, Ackerman. Though you did nothing wrong,” he added at the last moment, the words rushing out in an uncharacteristic blather.

Her eyelids twitched in a flash of innocent puzzlement, but she inclined her head in compliance. The words she had meant to say tumbled in her head and she cursed her incapacity to just come out with it. _Why_ was it so difficult?

She watched him withdraw from her and walk a little ways to the center of the ring before pausing again. The words thundered in her mind.

_I need to talk to you, sir!_

He cocked his head, his black hair swaying in the abrupt movement, and she swore he had heard her desperate plea.

“Actually, Ackerman,” he said to the side and pulled at the strip of cloth binding his hand with his teeth. “I’m in need of some assistance.” He ripped excess material from the covering and spat it out.

Mikasa frowned, but straightened in anticipation. “Sir?” _Perhaps I’ll get my chance._

“Spar with me.”

The command came in a surprisingly honeyed tone and she was taken aback by the lack of acerbity in the words. It was a simple invitation, and yet she was wary. “Captain, I’m not sure that would be prudent, considering your–”

“That’s an _order_ , Ackerman.” His eyes flared dangerously from over his shoulder.

The delicate moment dissolved, and Mikasa sighed inwardly. _Maybe not._ “I–of course, sir. Please allow me to prepare.”

She was irritated now, his unpredictable responses leaving her feeling cheated out of a possible resolution to her suppressed problem. _Maybe he’s not who I want to talk to anyway._

Nevertheless, the stubborn inclination that he _was_ the one she should seek advice from had cemented itself in her, and his refusal to acquiesce to her complication exasperated her that much more. Of course it was only in her head, and she couldn’t exactly force the Captain to sit down and listen to her. She figured he wasn’t the type of leader to respond to insubordination well.  

But if he wanted a fight, he would most certainly get it. The promise of soft retribution was sickly alleviating.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Next chapter will be slightly more action-y :)
> 
> If you have any questions, comments, suggestions, please direct them to the reviews section or send me a message on tumblr!


	4. Death in Five

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- Contains SPOILERS for those who don't read the manga. -
> 
> Author's Note: This chapter is extremely long, so beware! My editor and I went wild with it because we were just so excited. Please enjoy!
> 
> A huge thank you to k-lionheart on tumblr for helping me get this chapter ready!

_He held out his hands, the elbows sliding into familiar places as the fingers straightened, the small movements betraying honed practice and expertise._

_She launched herself at him almost immediately, wasting no time in throwing punches, kicks, swipes, but she was too inexperienced and struggled to pursue a specific direction with her offense. He ducked, dodged, and blocked, while the frown on his face grew deeper and deeper as the minutes ticked by._

_She was losing focus quickly, her barrage becoming clearly forced, and frustration began to set in as she continually swiped at the air, hitting nothing. Fury clouded her eyes, but she was too intent on showing the Captain she wasn’t what she exactly was: a novice._

_Her jabs came swifter and less balanced: she was beginning to compensate her power for speed and she fought to maintain her initial endurance._

The second Mikasa saw the Female Type Titan make a run for the Wall encircling Stohess District, her mind immediately steeled itself against her previous comrade.

_Annie. You betrayed us. Debased the Scouting Legion. You will pay._

Perhaps it was out of pity that she acted so quickly against Annie’s monstrous form, or perhaps it was simply because of revenge for her aggression against Eren in the Forest of Giant Trees. Mikasa didn’t let herself mull over the reasons why; Annie needed to be contained–imprisoned even–and interrogated for her actions.

A single slash severed the fingers of one of Annie’s hands that were clamped onto the stone of the Wall, the same technique she had seen Captain Levi perform as he cut the Female Titan’s jaws. _I can do it._ She would make up for her shortcomings in the Forest.

The attached arm dropped limply. Using the momentum from the first cut, Mikasa swung herself back toward Annie’s other hand, leaning into her attack. Her swords sliced through the remaining fingers neatly, and from her anchored place on the Wall, Mikasa could see fear brighten in the Titan’s blue eyes. She dropped onto the forehead and pushed off gently, antipathy lacing her words.

“Annie. Fall.”

_I am sorry. You picked the wrong side._

She watched from above as Annie Leonhardt’s actual body was exposed to the remaining soldiers loitering around her fallen Titan body. Eren’s Titan form looked pensive–if Titans could look skeptical–as he reached for the hardening casing Annie had managed to produce around herself.

_I suppose you and Commander Erwin were right. Captain Levi. Traitors are hard to find, and even harder to catch._

The few minutes of peace she had been granted while hanging on the Wall, she spent musing. Eren was safe, Annie had been captured, the dignity of the Scouting Legion had been somewhat restored–for now, at least–and her heart was content. Or was it? Unease had settled in the bottom of her stomach, and her thoughts shot instantly to Captain Levi. He had left a bittersweet taste in her mouth the day she had sparred with him, an instinct so primal she had had to suppress the urge to reach out and grab it with greedy fingers.

Dissatisfaction. Hunger. _Desire._ What was it about him that made her feel that way? He had left her bruised and beaten in the dirt at his feet in less than five minutes ( _“Tch. I expect better next time, Ackerman.”_ ); a jumbled mess of emotions that made her head reel in a million directions. It wasn’t desire in a romantic sort of sense, that much she was sure of (and had chanted in her head ten thousand times), but a type of eagerness and almost guilty _zeal_ that bled from her. A longing for just… _more._ Yet, whatever that was, she herself wasn’t even certain of.

An earsplitting crack and the ringing sound of falling rocks tore Mikasa away from her introspection, and she looked up in shock. The remains of Annie’s fingers in the Wall had crumbled away to steam and dust, but a gaping hole in the seemingly impenetrable stone revealed something much more horrifying. A  Titan’s face the length of her entire body peeked through the wound in the rock, and Mikasa felt her insides turn to mush.

_The Wall…a Titan…in the Wall?!_

She breathed out too quickly and choked, the hiccup in her lungs coming out in a loud gasp. To her growing terror, the Titan’s exposed eye slowly swiveled to stare directly at her, though none of the other facial muscles moved, and Mikasa bit down the urge to scream. _It was alive._

The feeling of calm evaporated in the smoke. She released her cables in a flurry of distress and panic.

Safety was now a distant thing of the past, and for some reason, she thought back to the absent Captain Levi.

_Is he safe?_

Such thoughts rattled around in her head as she joined Eren and Armin, and they watched as Annie’s crystallized form was dragged away in chains. Two shadows joined the outskirts of the crowd–she knew them to be Hanji Zoe and the Captain from their outlines–and the shorter one cocked its head toward her.

Mikasa bobbed her head once and turned back to Eren, who was currently dripping sweat and wobbly in the knees from his transformation.

Though she would never admit it openly, she had felt anxious about the Captain – and also still a bit guilty. Right now, if his life were put in jeopardy, she would be responsible. Responsible for the life of Humanity’s Strongest. Mikasa felt the weight press on her shoulders; she suddenly had another to look after, but this one…this one wouldn’t understand.

Or would he? Protection was something they both believed in, understood, _breathed_ practically. Before the Forest of Giant Trees, neither had needed it from the other, but now–things were different. An unspoken bond of trust had intertwined between them, fragile though it was, and she couldn’t ignore it. Duty obliged her to repay the debt.

_“Enough, Ackerman. You’ve lost your opportunity.” The words were clipped and clear, a mocking behind them, which drove her further into a frenzied rage. He hadn’t pulled a single move against her, something she was loathe to acknowledge. She absolutely refused to allow him to win without even touching her and she brought her foot up to shove him back, aiming for his heart._

_Too late she recognized the grievous blunder. In her haste and resentment, she had entered his zone of inhibition, practically offering herself to his mercy, and his grip was fastened on her ankle within seconds. He wrenched her closer to him, hauling her by the leg, until they were face to face. “Stand **down** , Ackerman, before you bloody burn yourself out.” _

_He snaked an arm around her leg and butted the back of his hand into the crook of her knee, forcing it to bend. She had to lower it to counteract the stretch, the strain immediately tightening the muscles in her leg painfully, and she leaned further backward to counteract the pressure he was applying. It was exactly what he wanted, she realized: an unstable stance with multiple areas to damage._

_A quick cut to the back of her outstretched thigh incapacitated her right leg completely and she lost her balance. She was falling, falling, falling, just before his hand snatched her back. The hold on her shirt spun her around and she was roughly reunited with Mother Earth, an arm planted across her neck in a rigid chokehold. She sputtered for breath._

_“Insubordination doesn’t suit you, Ackerman. Know your goddamned place.”_

-

The days passed, bringing with them new dilemmas and disputes, each more disturbing than the next.  It had been three days since Bertholdt and Reiner’s betrayal. Three days since Eren and Krista–no, _Historia_ now–had been captured and retrieved. Three days since the loss of Erwin’s arm. Strangely, Levi couldn’t bring himself to feel more than he could outwardly show.

It really was a mess. No one had heard or seen anything of Mike Zacharias since the day he had sent word to Erwin relaying the news that Titans had been spotted inside Wall Rose. Nanaba and Gelgar had been killed at Castle Utgard. The list of failures and deaths went on and on, and even Hanji Zoe didn’t know who had been left alive in the Scouting Legion.  

Still, there was work to be done. Levi had already spent the last week debating with himself on whom he would choose to belong to his new squad – not that he had many options. Before their deception, Reiner Braun and Bertholdt Hoover had been deeply considered, and now…well, Levi hoped for their sake that they didn’t cross paths with him in the near future.

“You’re free to go, Captain,” a military nurse murmured to him, and saluted sharply by the door to the small room he was currently resting in. A visit to the medical center every few days had put Levi in a foul mood, but it had been one of Erwin’s last requests before he had been taken away to the Capital. Though he had insisted his ankle was in no worse condition than it had been a week ago, Levi had reluctantly complied with his superior, knowing full well he was indeed correct. Levi knew that Erwin knew him well enough not to trust him with his own health.

A jerk of his head dismissed the nurse and Levi padded through the dim hallways to the mess room, where the remaining members of the Top Ten of the 104th Trainees’ Corps were waiting. He stopped outside the closed door, a hand on the rough wood to push it open, but something held him back. A breath. Soft and slow behind him. He cocked his head but didn’t turn around.

“You better have a damn good reason for being so bloody close, soldier.”

“Sir.” A dull thud answered him, the sound of a salute pounding against the chest of the other. “You asked to see me in the mess hall.”

Ackerman. Again. “I asked you to be in there five minutes ago. Not breathing down my back.” He refused to make eye contact with Mikasa as she walked past him, straight and stiff as a tree trunk. He caught a whiff of something pleasant and flowery in the air, but brushed it off as distracting.

As soon as he stepped over the threshold, six bodies shot from their seats, their voices resounding, “Captain, sir!” then…silence thick enough to cut with a knife.

“At ease. I didn’t order you down here to go over formalities and shit like that.” He took his usual place at the end of the table and glanced around at the faces he would be forced to memorize. Mikasa had taken a place directly to his right. _Fitting_ he thought, for what he had planned for her. She was good in every sense of the word, his battle-hardened mind told him, and certainly deserving of her “Top of the Class” title. Mikasa Ackerman would make a promising Lieutenant under his tutelage, should she survive that long. Erd Jinn had been his previous Second, but as unfortunate circumstances would have it…Levi frowned and moved on. Jean Kirstein stood next to Mikasa, his scowl reminding Levi every bit of Erwin Smith. This cadet had been one of the three Erwin had warned Levi to keep an eye on so very long ago, but from what he had heard, Kirstein was just as hotheaded and brash as Jaeger. The kid still had a lot to learn. Connie Springer, Sasha Braus, and Historia Reiss stared back at him as his eyes roved around the table. _You. You are the one we must keep hidden._ The Scouting Legion still had no real reason as to _why_ the cadet was so important, even though her surname should have been enough to set them on high alert. If she hadn’t lied about it in the first place. What was done was done, and Levi flicked his gaze to Eren Jaeger and Armin Arlert to his left. Eren was still under his protection, and though Arlert had yet to prove himself in the plane of the physical, Levi needed his sharp mind and brutal logic.

“Sit your asses _down_ , soldiers,” he commanded, the words coming out clipped and impatient. “Because of recent events, I’ve been compelled to recruit a new squad for the Scouting Legion’s purposes and utility. You seven should do quite nicely, considering you already know each other and can _work together_.” He paused, examining the young faces before him and looking for any tension between them. Connie and Sasha smirked playfully at each other, Mikasa didn’t look away from his stare, while Jean and Eren each narrowed their eyes at the other. Levi grunted. “I don’t give a flying _fuck_ about past spats you’ve had with each other. End it _now_ or we’ll take this to the sparring ring. Mercy is not one of my strong points.”

The teenagers shrank back into their chairs, bewilderment plastered on their faces. More than likely, this had been the first time they had heard the Captain speak so many words at any given time.

Levi gave an audible sigh and crossed his legs. “Since you’re still…children, I’m only going to give the following orders _once_. This castle is now your permanent residence until further notice. As such, you have all been given new room assignments on the Fifth Floor.”

At his words Sasha’s eyes widened and she leaned over to Connie to whisper something into his ear. Levi ignored her, knowing exactly the reason why. Floor and room numbers were delegated in rank order, with higher numbers soliciting higher rank and standing. The Sixth and highest floor was reserved for Erwin Smith and his immediate subordinates including Squad Leaders, while the rest of the floors had been assigned to lower ranked soldiers. New recruits were usually placed on the lowest floor, One. As part of Levi’s new squad, they had shot through the ranks–though they all still held the Cadet class–and would now be considered veteran soldiers.

“Because of recent circumstances, you will have to share rooms. Males in one room, females in another. No one of the opposite sex is permitted in the other’s room. I will personally punish any offenders as I see necessary. Training begins at 0500 hours every day beginning tomorrow. As my direct subordinates, you answer to myself and any and all who are ranked above me, only. _Is that clear?_ ” He turned in his chair to stretch out, never taking his eyes off of his new team.

“Sir,” Jean’s thin voice prompted from his right.

“Make it quick.”

“You said we only answer to you and any who are above you in rank. But only Commander Smith–”

“I am aware that Commander Smith is the only soldier ranked above me–”

Eren interrupted - a common occurrence Levi was painfully aware of, “But the Commander is being _held_ –”

“ _I. Am. Aware._ Jaeger, I did not give you permission to speak out of turn.” Levi growled, feeling the temperature in the room rise. _Teenagers._ “Yes, Commander Smith is being detained right now. Should he decide to give any discreet orders from his padded cell in the Capital, you are to follow them. Until then, yes, Kirstein, you answer only to me. You take orders _only_ from me. _Do I make myself clear?_ ” Levi didn’t wait for any response and rubbed his temples. _I feel like a goddamn babysitter._

“Sir!” Seven voices echoed around him, and he nodded in approval.

“Arlert. Springer. You both have guard duty when the change happens at 2120 hours. Be in the courtyard for further instruction in fifteen minutes. Bring rifles. The rest of you are dismissed. Mess is at 1930 in the main hall. You have an hour.” He stood up and they all followed suit. “No further instruction will be given tonight.”

Heels clicked and Levi turned without another word. They filed out past him in silence until Mikasa stopped in front of him again.  

“Captain Levi, sir.” She didn’t wait for any affirmation that he had heard her, or that he wished for her to proceed. “I would like to speak to you about the…spar we had earlier in the week,” she hardened her gaze into his face and Levi narrowed his eyes.

“What of it, Ackerman?”

“I would like to request formal training from one of the senior officers in hand-to-hand combat during my stay here at Headquarters. My fight with you demonstrated to me that I am weak in that area and that I require more discipline.”

Levi was taken aback. Almost.

He walked past her and into the hallway. “Even if I were to consider it, when would you find the time to include this kind of training in your schedule, Ackerman?”

“Sleep is no longer a necessity, Captain. I will–”

“–do _no such thing_. Rest is imperative, Cadet.” He halted at the stairs and inwardly acquiesced. “Fine. Instead of training with the others in the Grid, you will go to the sparring ring. First thing tomorrow morning at 0500 hours you will meet your instructor and begin. Two hours each day. Dismissed, Ackerman.”

She saluted and stepped down the stairs, a slight bounce in her gait. So. She wanted more experience and practice in one-on-one. He had guessed that she would come to ask him about it sooner or later; since that spar between them, he had glimpsed a brief gleam in her eye that gave it away, and he had already made the necessary arrangements anyway. She would be satisfied. Maybe more than she wanted.

Levi crossed into his room and shut the door, turning the lock. He flung the white shirt over his head and fell into his desk chair, heart beating unnaturally fast. Running a hand through his hair, he closed his eyes and allowed himself a small smile, the smirk stretching across his lips in propitiation.

There was work to be done tonight if he had training to teach at 0500 hours tomorrow.  

-

When he awoke, there was a slight breeze in the crisp air, almost too cold to be comfortable in. Nevertheless, Levi bandaged his hands, mentally readying himself for an intense next two hours as he picked a way down to the large dirt enclosure near the castle. Through the paper-thin walls, he had heard Mikasa leave the girls’ room at 0440, and he clamped down his teeth, knowing she was already waiting for her instructor to arrive.

Upon entering the ring, he located his student and she snapped to attention when she noticed his advance toward her, a slight look of confusion in her features.

“Captain, sir…”

“Squad Leader Zoe and I agreed that it would be best if I were the one to deliver your training. Any further questions, Ackerman?” Levi tightened the bindings around his wrists, and bent down to check the one on his injured ankle. They would be barefoot today, and though he had planned to use the first day as a test to evaluate her level, there was no promise of holding back from either of them.

The slight girl narrowed her eyes in suspicion, but they suddenly cleared and softened. Crinkles near the corners of her eyes belied her slight amusement. “None, sir. It is a privilege to be taught by…you.” She pursed her lips and didn’t break her at-attention position.

“Take the gear off. We’ll begin by assessing your skill and strength. Every move I make against you, you imitate against me.” Levi unbuckled the straps imprisoning his body and let them fall to the ground, rotating his shoulder muscles in relief from the restraints.

Mikasa nodded and undid the leather across her chest and legs as well. Levi averted his eyes, dumbly wondering if watching his younger subordinate strip the gear from her body fell under a vague branch of the fraternization law. Not that that stupid mandate was heeded anymore. With the body count rising, the military couldn’t afford to force its soldiers to look for partners outside its jurisdiction.  

Levi scowled and moved on, mentally swearing at the perfidious thoughts. _Not that it mattered._ “From now on, I am your enemy in this ring. My goal is to kill you, so to speak, and yours is to kill me. This is not the fucking Trainees’ Corps ring where wooden knives are the most lethal tool handed to you. Every blow, punch, kick, _slash_ is made with the intention to immobilize _permanently_. Am I understood, Ackerman.”

“Quite, sir.”

Levi snapped his head to face her and his icy stare thawed. “Widen your legs. Lean into your stance,” he corrected. “We’ll begin then.”

-

The minutes passed and grew into hours. Levi had felt his arms turn sluggish thirty minutes ago, but judging from the position of the sun, there was still about ten minutes until 0700 hours. Mikasa was still parroting his moves against him, and glancing at her face in the quick moments before they whirled away from each other again, he saw that she had become even more determined to best him. _She just doesn’t fucking give up._

So he launched into a set of quicker kicks, each smaller and tighter than the previous. He didn’t give her time to mimic them before his hands flew up and knocked her back a few steps, the punches aimed at her shoulders and sides, the most vulnerable areas on the torso. He gritted his teeth, searching for any drop in her defense, but there! That was his mistake: in looking for a weakness, he had dropped his own guard and she was quick and sharp enough to spot it.

Needless to say, this time she didn’t mirror him. She brought up her fists close to her face as if to strike his upper arms, but instead she leaned back into a kick, spinning on one foot and adjusting her balance to turn into the other one. The kicks came a little weak, but rapid enough to warrant a desperate block from him. He threw up a defensive stance, his arms taking the brunt of the impacts from her heels, and the strips of cloth bound to his wrists finally tore and split; thin tatters of material floated from his hands in the quiet gusts of air from the blows.

Though surprised and gently pleased at her ability to improvise on the spot and clear improvement from the last time, he frowned at the lack of power behind each. _Something to work on._

Levi spun out of the way until he was right behind her, her black hair inches away from his nose. A crack of his elbow to her back sent her to her knees and he caught the back of her shirt before she completely dropped to the ground. “Up, Ackerman.”

However, she apparently still had one other trick up her sleeve. Her torso suddenly twisted around and she quirked her mouth at him in triumph as her legs gripped around his own, causing him to lose his balance and crash down in the dirt next to her. Air was forced from his lungs and his head cracked against the compact dirt.

“Shall we call it a draw then, Captain?” Mikasa breathed out heavily and continued to lie on the ground, wiping the sweat from her forehead and cheeks. She turned to face her superior, perhaps to apologize for her sudden assertive behavior, but he didn’t hear her and said nothing in reply.  

In fact, Captain Levi could hear and see nothing of the present world at all.

-

_“It’s called Death in Ten, asses. You manage to do it, you’re in.”_

_“Each of us had to‘nd we’re still alive. How old were you when you finished yours, Claw?”_

_“Sixteen. Managed to do it in eight minutes and fifty-six seconds. Second fastest time since it was devised. Fuckin’ owned that initiation shit they pulled over us.”_

_Twenty-seven boys of varying ages stood around the new recruits, each meaner-looking than the next. Even at such a tender young age, Levi could feel the trappings of hatred begin to constrict around his heart. He already despised these boys. Or were they men? Most of the gang looked to be in their late teens, early twenties. Yet whatever ages they boasted, they all had that grungy, dirty look about them; scars streaked across many of their faces and limbs, and some sported strange looking tattoos peeking from beneath their alcohol-imbued cloaks and patched shirts._

_Levi was standing in a line of five other boys, the oldest around sixteen. As fledgling gang members, they had been told they had been “selected” and “specially hand-picked” by the leader of their gang–a certain “Harley,” whoever the hell he was–and carefully chosen to become part of their tribe of misfits, miscreants, and rebels in the Underground District. The veterans were now explaining to the new recruits the initiation test that would determine their so-called “eligibility” to join._

_From his earlier interrogation from Harley’s “Generals” to now, Levi had spoken around a total of twenty words, something the older boys had particularly liked (“Small. Quiet. Angry. You’re perfect, runt.”), and had practically threatened him with various weapons until he complied. Levi wasn’t sure if he should have just taken the chance to run while he still had it._

_A rather freckly-looking boy was now describing the specifics of the test. “Death in Ten” it was called, and from what twelve-year-old Levi could comprehend, it required each recruit to pick a victim and kill him or her in at least ten minutes._

_“You have one month t’ prepare for th’ test. Then you’ll go out, find yer target, and eliminate it. No ‘scuses.” The boy began ticking off a list of guidelines. “Step one: choose yer Mark. Can be anyone, really. Boy, girl, man, woman, rich, poor, young, old. Whatever ya want. Who was yers, Tooth? Same as yer brother’s?”_

_It must have been extremely amusing to the rest of the members because they all snorted and clapped the one called Claw on the back, which elicited a sharp snarl from him. “You all said we weren’t supposed to know the Marks of the others, you fuckin’ jackasses! How was I supposed to know he’d choose dear old Dad too?”_

_Levi’s eyes widened, but he narrowed them again at Tooth and Claw; one of them had killed their own father in cold blood, and neither looked notably remorseful about it. Except from what he had observed during his short time alone in the Underground, Levi himself knew nothing about family. However, his gut instinct told him that parents were definitely cherished and coveted among other, less foul-appearing characters. Though perhaps he was alone in this thought here in the gang’s hideaway._

_“Step two,” the freckled boy continued. “Ya choose yer weapon. Has t’ be something we already have. Takes too long t’ steal otherwise. Whadda we got anyway, Kitty? Knives ‘n’ guns?”_

_A tall, muscly tan teenager shrugged in response. “Harley has a stash somewhere, but the ones we’re allowed to use’re in the Caves. Handguns, rifles, knives, those sword-looking things they use in the military Aboveground. Some explosives too, I think, grenades maybe. I gotta go over the inventory again.”_

_Freckles raised his eyebrows. “Explosives, huh. Didn’ have those when I did my test. Anyway, step three: location. Where’re you gonna do it, huh? Personally, I’d suggest somewhere quiet ‘nd dark. The military sometimes comes down ‘ere and snatches a few o’ our own, so you prob’ly wanna get it done close and quiet. They’re right bastards, the sons-o’-bitches.” He spat on the ground in front of him and the rest followed. “Fuckin’ shitheads, th’ lot of ‘em.”_

_“Aw, give it a rest, Zig. We haven’t seen ‘em for a month now,” a voice called from the back._

_Levi flicked his eyes to Zig’s pinched face, the freckles bunching in weird pockets, and wondered what in the world could have made the boy hate the military so much. Again, he didn’t know much about what the soldiers did except from the chatter he heard around the grottoes and ghettoes, but it seemed like they were the good guys: brave and valiant men and women who fought the demonic monsters everyone called “Titans.”_

_“Four. Once ya got yer weapon, location, and Mark,” Zig paused and glared at each new recruit. “Hunt ‘em down an’ chase ‘em. Once you start chasin’ ‘em though, that’s when yer timer starts.” He tapped a bright looking pocket watch in his hand and flipped it open and closed several times. “Chase ‘em, capture ‘em, and then–”_

_“–you **slaughter** them.” A new voice cut through the smoky air, and any veteran who was slouching or lounging around or leaning against the wall immediately snapped into a strange salute. Two fingers projected from their hands and came to rest on their foreheads, their elbows bent at an awkward angle._

_But Levi wasn’t looking at the boys anymore. A girl had sauntered into the room, dark green eyes piercing through each resident. “You look them in the eyes and you stop that pathetic little heart from beating any more. And when you do, I’ll know you’re one of **us**.” She walked down the line of newbies, inspecting each one, and when she stopped in front of him, Levi felt his stomach turn. _

_Harley was a **girl**. A girl around sixteen, and she looked tougher than the rest of the men she lorded over, and twice as heartless. She towered over Levi, silently daring him to object, to challenge her absolute authority. He said nothing, instead eyeing the bizarre looking straps encircling her middle and the bulky metal boxes at her hips._

_“Got it, peabrain?” Her knee-high boots clicked against the rotted wooden floor and she swept her dark gray cloak around her, flicking the dust into his eyes. She stepped back flicking a dark red ponytail over her shoulders and addressed her followers, who still hadn’t budged from their salute. “Zig! We’re short on time. The Boxer’s had word that the Military Police scum are back on their usual schedule down here. The noobs have one week to prepare for their Death in Ten. Then we move out to East Windy Street.”_

_Zig jerked his head downward in affirmation. “Got it, sir. They’ll begin now.”_

_Harley didn’t respond, but pointed to three larger boys on the back wall. “Kitty! Tanner! Glaze! You’re wish me today. Get hooked up. We fly in five!” she barked. The three chosen ones nudged each other and smirked–Levi had to keep from rolling his eyes–and followed their leader from the room. Those who hadn’t been picked were left with a curious shine in their eyes, an almost odd look of longing, as they watched Harley leave._

_Did they all have… **feelings** for their commander? Levi didn’t know, and didn’t really want to stick around long enough to find out. However, as circumstances were, joining them was a whole lot better than living alone in the slums of the Underground. He had no choice._

_“Ya got it, shrimps?! Ya heard ‘er! ‘Stead of a month, ya now got a week. Git goin’ ya lazy dogs!” Zig stamped his foot and Levi found himself staring at the boy next to him, waiting for him to move out the door along with the others._

_The older kid stared back, anxiety slowly creeping into his smooth face. “A week?” He whispered to Levi._

_Levi shrugged. “Easier to get it over with.”_

_The older kid’s eyes widened in revulsion. “Are you **insane**? They’re asking us to…t-to go out and **kill** someone and you…”_

_“You’re gonna get both of us kicked out if you keep running your mouth,” Levi said, his voice low. Zig was already leering at them, a hand resting on a small bulge in his pocket. Levi shoved the older kid away from him. “Just get back to the room.”_

_“A week, ya little whelps! If ya pass, ya get baptized by Harley ‘erself!” A couple of the boys sniggered, but Zig ignored them. “Yer new names’ll be given out then, so ya might wanna think about how ya act ‘round us now. Ain’t that right, Milkmaid?” He snorted, and the rest of the boys broke into a cacophony of obnoxious laughter and grunts. “But one week, ya got that?” Zig shouted at Levi’s back._

_Being twelve (and knowing precisely nothing about the past years of his short life, let alone rude comments) Levi wasn’t quite sure what they were all laughing out, but his mind was already set on completing the Death in Ten and wondering how he would accomplish it. He didn’t like it–taking another life for his own gain–but if this was what he had to do to survive in the Underground…he had nowhere else to go. Aboveground sounded more treacherous than Below with their Titans and military soldiers crawling all over the place, and besides, he had no way to pay for the expensive ticket that would guarantee him a space on the massive Conveyor to the Districts Above. Usage of the Conveyor was apparently reserved for only the wealthy and prominent families, of which Levi belonged to neither._

_His stomach gave a small noise, attracting the attention of one of the other recruits, his hazel eyes looking Levi up and down. “You better get used to being hungry ‘round here.” The kid stuck out a thin hand. “Church. Farlan Church. Nice to meet you.”_

_~_

_“You can’t use that, you thick-skulled asshat!” Kitty screeched, and Levi snatched back the hand that was reaching for a set of curious looking boxes, identical to the ones Harley had been wearing the day he met her._

_“No one said I couldn’t before,” Levi answered coolly, and brought his fingers down on the metal, the smooth coldness feeling strangely relieving. “Why not?”_

_“Unless you know how to use it, rookie, pick somethin’ else!” Kitty growled and stomped over to where Levi was standing._

_“Then teach me.” Levi crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes. “Or I’ll teach myself.”_

_“And who’s gonna make me?”_

_“Me. Weren’t you one of the ones I knocked out in the West End that day? We could try again…” Levi hardened his face, filtering through his memories. He had thought the older boy had looked familiar yesterday, and studying him, Levi was sure he didn’t want to be beaten by a younger kid again, especially one half his size._

_Kitty paled. “Er, yeah, about that. Never mind. So you wanna use it? You’re gonna fail at your Death in Ten for sure. If you haven’t got a decent amount of practice.” He added quickly._

_“So teach me. I’ve got a week.”_

_“Fine.” Kitty muttered and tossed Levi a set of straps and belts, a tangle of leather and bits of metal. “Your legs go in these, your arms in those. No, **that** one. Got it? Tighten ‘em and attach the scabbards–those’re the box-looking things–to your thighs. Light, eh? Gas goes on the back, here.” Kitty dropped a heavier piece of the equipment onto the small of Levi’s back, and handed him a pair of lightweight handgrips. “You’re only allowed one set of blades for the handgrips so don’t break ‘em on anything. The buttons are for launching and recalling your grapple hooks,” he pointed to Levi’s waist. “We’ll try you out in the Caves first. Easiest place for you to bang into stuff to break your fall if you miss. Just don’t land on a stalagmite.” He chortled and inspected him._

_Satisfied, Kitty ushered Levi deeper into the rocky caverns, and strapped on a set of gear of his own, his shadow dancing in the bright torchlight. Levi felt ridiculous in the weird getup, but he had seen Harley using the gear to fly out the window yesterday, and his body screamed for any sort of freedom._

_“Got it, kid? What’s your name again?”_

_“…Levi. I have no surname.”_

_“Most of us don’t, and all of us don’t want one. Ties you down. You’ll be given a new name if you pass though, anyway. Makes no difference whether you had one or not. A family or whatever too.”_

_“I don’t.”_

_“Don’t what?”_

_“Have a family.”_

_“Give it a rest, kid. We’re your family now.”_

_~_

_Levi stared into the man’s eyes. Just like Harley had told him to. There was nothing there that made him feel sorry for his Mark. Except–_

_“Please, p-please! I have to go back there, y-you can’t do this!” The man babbled, a harsh nasally sound that stung Levi’s ears. “I haven’t done anything wrong! Y-y…you’re just a KID! HELP! SOMEONE HELP!”_

_It had taken Levi less than two hundred and twenty-six seconds to catch his Mark, a full five minutes ahead of the fastest time recorded for a Death in Ten. The maneuvering gear had been awkward to use at first, but his body had adapted easily–much too easily–to the demanding process. He obviously hadn’t perfected the use of the grapple hooks and metal wires yet, but his practice had apparently been proficient enough to swoop through the air and land on the back of his Mark as it ran through the narrow alley._

_Chancing a look around him, he knew the veterans were watching him from above, dangling from their own stolen maneuvering gear in the crevices of cracked buildings and towers. He’d have to make it quick._

_Yet something in the terrified man’s eyes stayed the swords in his hands. Hope flitted through the muddy irises, a quiver of the ferocious resolve to **live** , and Levi almost released him in frantic pity, doubt pouring into his mind._

_A whimper of something angry nettled his heart though, and Levi’s small hands tightened and lowered the blades closer to the skin of his victim’s neck as it blazed hotter and hotter. Yes, the man wanted to live. But he wasn’t the one holding the sharpened metal. **I’m not sorry. I have to survive.**_

_He clamped a solid palm over the man’s sputtering mouth. “I was told to say nothing to my Mark.” He leaned down and whispered coldly into the older man’s ear. “But because of your sacrifice, I am able to live. I’m…grateful.”_

_The man squirmed violently beneath him and Levi shoved a knee deeper into the man’s gut. A quick jab to the ribcage cracked a few bones and the man screamed in silence, the agony of instant pain causing him to go limp. In that instant, twelve-year-old Levi hardened his young heart and closed the gap between the blades and the neck of his Mark, severing the head completely in an effort to make it efficient. Blood erupted from the fatal cut, splashing onto his face and hands, but he paid it no attention, focusing on the shuddering body of the poor man and waiting for its convulsing to cease._

_When the deed was done and the body still, the young man rose and left the alley, ignoring the bloody head rolling at his feet. Red showered in his brain, and he wanted to drop to the dirty cobblestone and scream. Tears begged to be released from their floodgates._

_He had committed murder. He had killed. And for what?_

**_To survive._ ** _His mind thundered at him, forcing his heartbeat to slow down. **Live.**_

_But was it worth it? To bear the guilt to the end of his days? He hadn’t even known the man he had so mercilessly butchered. Did he have a family? Would someone cry for him tonight? He leaned against a brick wall, his body threatening to shut down._

**_I am a murderer._ **

_“Congratulations, kid. You managed to actually do it,” Kitty dropped down from his hiding place on the roof above Levi. “Fastest time I’ve ever heard of too.”_

_“How do ya know he didn’t cheat?” Zig landed behind him, the metal of the maneuvering gear clanging against Levi’s own. He was holding the pocket watch and staring at the hands looking slightly bewildered. “’E only ‘ad a week t’ practice with tha’ 3D gear!”_

_“Shut it, Zig. I was the one who taught him how to use it – you keep your trap shut! He didn’t cheat!” Kitty shot back, a hand coming to rest protectively on Levi’s bloodstained shoulder._

_“Enough, you pigs.” Harley’s dry voice echoed in the alley and Levi was immediately on guard. “Look at that mess. I’d say that’s pretty dead, ain’t it?” She gestured to the growing scarlet puddle a few feet away. “He did it, he’s in. Congrats. Levi, was it?”_

_Levi nodded once, his eyes focused on anywhere but her._

_“You’ll make a good addition. We need someone like you. Strong and ruthless. I like that.” A fierce gleam twinkled in her green eyes and she smirked at him. Was she being…flirty? “Your Death in Ten will be something we tell the next greenhorns now. A model. Something to emulate and strive for. Right, boys?”_

_A small cheer rose behind her and Levi felt himself go warm. Did he belong now? Did he have…a home? Some place to return to every night?_

**_Murderers don’t have homes_ ** _his mind whispered._

_Harley tapped her chin. “Hm. Death in Five now. Welcome to the club, kid.”_

_Levi didn’t feel welcome though._

-

Mikasa was discernibly distraught. She bent over the Captain’s still body, her fingers inches away from his neck, and she hoped to high heaven she hadn’t just killed Humanity’s Strongest.

It hadn’t even been that forceful a maneuver, just a little disarming move they had learned while still in the Trainees’ Corps. She steeled herself, and pressed her middle and forefinger against his neck, feeling, wishing, _praying_ for a pulse.

It was there, a solid _thump thump thump thump_ against the tips of her fingers, and she let out the breath she had been holding. Alive and…not dead.

She sat back on her legs, wondering _what now?_ So the Captain had passed out. No big deal, right? People passed out all the time from overexertion, especially if they had had recent injuries. Her eyes shot to his ankle, still bandaged. Though she hadn’t noticed any outward limp in his step earlier, she figured it must still be agitating him, and she closed her eyes and hung her head, strands of her inky hair swaying in the breeze.

“We’re not done yet, Ackerman.” She heard a wheeze to her side, and she almost jumped up in alarm.

Levi’s eyes were now open, a menacing glint in them, but he didn’t get up or right his position. Instead, he stared at her and she at him for almost a full thirty seconds before: “You’ve improved.”

Mikasa knitted her brows together in confusion, fully convinced the Captain had lost his mind during his lapse of unconsciousness. “Sir. I am sorry. Your injury…I should have known–”

“Help me the fuck up, Cadet.”

“Er…sir?”

“Don’t make me bloody repeat myself, Ackerman.” Levi narrowed his eyes.

She bit her lip and proffered a hand to him, her face unreadable. _Insubordination doesn’t suit you._

Levi slapped his hand in hers rather unceremoniously and hoisted himself from the ground, leaning to one side. “Again. We still have a few minutes before mess.”

Mikasa nodded, her brain bouncing to outer space and back. She cleared her mind and lowered herself into a defensive position, waiting for his move, but it was already coming: the back of his foot streaked through her line of vision and she ducked, miraculously avoiding the kick to her head.

_Is this my punishment?_

She crouched low again, waiting for his next move, but this time it didn’t come. Instead Levi held out his hands, the palms facing inward, and narrowed his eyes. Sensing what he wanted, Mikasa tightened her fists and came at him, aiming for his shoulders and head. _My second chance._

He wasn’t there anymore though. He had shifted to her left, almost behind her, and she reached out for him again. Missing her target once more, she bent down and swept out a leg, knowing that if he was within her range, he’d either fall or have to jump to avoid it. However, from what she could see, he performed neither, and was suddenly behind her again.

“Use your opponent’s strength against them.” Levi droned and Mikasa felt her annoyance rise. He was _toying_ with her.

She grunted in reply, and pulled herself into a roll, moving out of his immediate vicinity. Gathering what strength she had left, she moved forward, a flurry of limbs and exasperation hailing like a hurricane.

Levi dodged her blows and managed to catch one of her wrists in a firm grip. Twisting it, he pulled her close to him, and said lowly, “Not a draw, Ackerman.” He swept her legs out from under her, a modified version of the move she had pulled over him minutes ago, and was on top of her in seconds, a knife across her throat.

_What is it with him and throats?_

Mikasa pursed her lips, wondering where in the world the blade had come from, and nodded in defeat. “Sir.”

Levi removed his person from her, and frowned, holding out a hand. She took it, refusing to meet his eyes.

_Tricked and beaten. Again._

“We’ll begin with using weapons tomorrow. Since you’re obviously still too bloody cautious around them. Use that.” He tossed her the knife and she caught it with one hand, feeling the grip on the handle. It fit into her palm snugly.

“Yes, sir.” She was still breathing heavily, but it wasn’t from the onerous activity.

_That touch…_

“Dismissed.”

Mikasa saluted, the knife at her side, and she glanced back at the Captain as she walked away, her body suddenly looking forward to the next session with him.

_I’ll get my chance._

-

Bright eyes hidden under a dark hood followed Mikasa as she left the Captain, and Eren could feel himself go hot with…something close to jealousy.

The rest of Captain Levi’s new squad had met in the Grid for regular training, but Hanji Zoe had met them in the thick of the trees, informing them that Mikasa Ackerman would not be joining them. _“She’ll be with Levi for training every morning now, and rejoin you for afternoon practice!”_

Upon their return, Eren had spied his sister and Captain Levi in the sparring ring and had stayed outside to walk back to the castle with her when she had finished, telling the others he’d catch up later. His mind hadn’t been prepared for what he had seen.

She had apparently knocked the Captain out for a few solid minutes and though his heart had jumped through his chest when he saw his superior passed out on the ground, it shook with bafflement at what he had seen next. Mikasa raised her hand and brushed away the Captain’s hair, pressing it to his forehead–maybe feeling for a fever or some other abnormality–but the contact was longer than it should have been, at least in Eren’s mind.

_Stop!_ Eren wanted to shout. _You can’t! He’s…_ She then moved her fingers to his neck, looking for a pulse, and Eren glimpsed slight panic in her face from his place against the stone wall.

Captain Levi was supposed to be protecting _him_ , right? Possession snuck into his mind, cold and sharp. Mikasa was his sister…he couldn’t bear to lose her. To…whatever she and the Captain were doing. Hanji had said they were working on close combat, but this, this didn’t look it at all. This looked like something much more intimate, though it may not have begun that way. They were both _his_ , but separate. And alone.

The Captain regained his consciousness shortly after and Eren was taken aback at the fleeting expression on his sister’s face. It was certainly relieved, but also…curious. _Ravenously_ curious.

_Was something going on?_

In his sixteen short years, Eren Jaeger had felt a multitude of complex and heavy emotions, fear and determination being the two that shadowed his every step. Jean Kirstein probably wouldn’t hesitate to include _hatred_ as well, and though Eren would never admit it openly, he couldn’t deny it. Hatred held its root in fear, and it had been what drove him to pursue Annie through the Forest of Giant Trees: to punish her for what she had done, her heartlessness turned so easily to murder.

However, fear of death was an entirely different feeling than what coursed through his blood today. Fear of death was easy to confront, so to speak; denial came first, then depression, mourning, and finally acceptance. Yet fear of _loss_ …now _that_ was an entirely different matter. In Eren’s violent experiences and wanders through life, death and loss were as dissimilar as the Scouting Legion and the Military Police. They may have come from the same foundation, but that was where they also deviated. He had waded through death and despair so many times in his short military career, and though each one burned his heart, it was too repetitive. Loss weighed so much more. Six names were branded onto the underside of his skin, their matching faces etched in the deep recesses of his conscience, and he associated them with this feeling worse than death. They had been _stolen_ from him, and today, he could feel another begin its dark descent toward that fate. The journey would be slow–perhaps ending in death, because that was the only destination he could foresee right now–but this one would hurt a great deal more, the worst kind of pain imaginable, because jealousy and passion laced this Red String of Fate.

Today, Eren Jaeger, _Humanity’s Last Hope_ , felt that sinking feeling of loss initiate, and dread settled in. Would he lose this one too?

-

She was thinking way too hard about this. The touch of the rough hand, the way her body reacted to it. She was inexplicably drawn to it and him – for a reason only the gods knew.

Mikasa had said nothing about this morning’s events to any of her teammates, or to Captain Levi; he had made himself scarce as soon as morning mess had been called.

She was now at the door of the inside gym, finished with her personal workout, and ruminating on her _feelings_ as she walked back to the room she shared with Sasha and Historia. There was bound to be some sort of relationship between her and the Captain now, as superior and subordinate – that, she couldn’t deny. Though she was loathe to admit it, she was loyal to that sick brute, even though he didn’t seem the violent and immature prick he had exhibited to her before. _He had saved her._ Loyalty came with a price, though, even if it was between soldiers.

She was sure she didn’t _hate_ him anymore either. That had dissipated when she had heard that sickening crack of his ankle colliding the Female Titan’s hand.

Mikasa shook her head, sweeping the bangs from her eyes and clenching her teeth -- out of nowhere, a pain in her left arm shot through her body and a white light blinded her. She crushed herself against the wall and clutched her arm, seeing a vision of a younger version of herself staring back at her a few feet away.

_“Girl. We’re almost done. Just step onto that platform and start running. Do it now. That’s a good girl.”_

Mikasa felt her throat tighten and she fought to keep from collapsing to the floor.

_“You’ll be with your parents soon, you just have to do this for us now.”_

_The younger Mikasa stared back, her face contorting in pain as she ran on the platform, a belt of some sort flew beneath her feet at a pace most grown-ups couldn’t keep up with._

_“Are you sure we gave it to her correctly? She’s getting tired again. Quicker this time.”_

_“Relax. It’ll be just fine. Watch and see.”_

_“The serum is supposed to work immediately though. It’s been two weeks and still no signs of transformation.”_

She struggled to maintain control of her breathing now, and she wrapped her arms around herself.

_The little girl broke into a scream, the pain quickly becoming too much for her small body to bear. A long wound had reopened on her left arm and two men in white coats rushed forward._

_“Get Ackerman down here! Place of injection’s opened up again. Gotta get it stitched up again and bandaged before it gets infected. What was her distance and time?” One of the men asked angrily._

_A gurgle answered him and the man faded, everything going black._

Mikasa stifled a gasp, her hand pressed against her mouth and her teeth grinding.

_What serum? What was that? **Where** was that?_

A clicking sound snapped her away from the chilling vision. She hastened a muddy salute as Levi rounded the corner.

“Ackerman.” He nodded, the cravat around his neck bobbing down his chest. “You look like shit.”

Mikasa was in no mood for the Captain’s games, and she fought to keep her composure. “I’ve just come from, a, workout, sir.” She heaved a breath as evidence.

Levi stopped and leaned closer, eyes searching for any lie in her face. She worried he would see one. “You don’t look well, Ackerman. See the nurse.” He rocked back on his heels–favoring his right leg–and scoffed. “You’re white as a sheet.”

She nodded, not knowing what else to say. “I, pushed myself a little too hard today, sir.” _Would he ask?_

He waved a hand, dismissing her. “Fine. Clean yourself up. Lights out is in half an hour.” He turned and dropped his eyes to her sides, suddenly focusing on her left arm.

It may have been a trick of the light, but Mikasa swore she saw something like alarm pass through the Captain’s normally stoic features. Recognition flitted across his face and he brought his left arm behind his back in an unusual posture. His eyes were transfixed on hers and his mouth opened, but then he shut it again, remaining silent.

They stood there awkwardly in the hall, facing each other and saying nothing, until Levi turned from her completely, walking away quicker than he came. “See me at 1500 hours tomorrow, Ackerman. No excuses.” Then he was gone.

_What the hell?_

Mikasa dropped her salute and slid down the wall, a hand on her left arm.

_Did he know she had been lying? Had he **seen** …whatever that little episode was? _

Maybe she _could_ tell Captain Levi what was going on: these strange visions that involved her and weird scientists. They were becoming more and more frequent, sometimes showing her nothing, just plain blackness.

And…a _serum?_ Had she been _injected_ with something when she was younger?

It wasn’t possible. She had grown up on her parents’ farm, away from the huge cities and buildings, not in some lab being treated like an animal and made to _run._

_It’s not possible. I have a family. I was born on February tenth and brought up in Wall Maria. I would have remembered those men._

_I’m **normal**. _

-

A week later, the Thirteenth Commander of the Scouting Legion was pacing in his room again, wearing a track on the wooden floorboards. The Capital was not somewhere he chose to be often, but time had forced him to play his hand early, ending up in the tight hold of the Military Police on suspicion of treason and delegating murder. Upon discovering _Historia Reiss_ was a potential solution to the monarchy’s corruption, he had promptly named Hanji Zoe as his successor–someone whom he could absolutely trust–and commenced the second stage of his plan to seat the blonde girl on the throne. Puppet or not, Reiss would prove to be a better leader than the current sovereign.

Erwin had had word from Levi and Hanji earlier in the week, their coded letters informing him of his soldiers’ comings and goings and the preparations for the Uprising. Complications were growing by the minute.

Levi. Levi _Ackerman._ The name was comforting. Yet eerily troubling as well. Erwin was sure no one else knew his Captain’s surname–except the man himself–and Levi’s heritage had never been discussed purposely between the two men. Yet, since the arrival of _Mikasa_ Ackerman, he had wondered when the past would rise up and rear its bloody head. Now, with accusations flying around the city, it seemed it had already done so, with the arrival and illusive assistance of the First Military Police Brigade – a more skilled and fearsome branch of the Military Police seemingly centered on maintaining “peace” between humans within the Walls and trading secrets.  

Reluctantly, Erwin had inferred that _he_ would make his entrance sooner or later as well. As a natural leader of the soldiers of the Central Branch, Kenny “the Ripper” Ackerman would no doubt become his adversary once again, becoming a much more deadly obstacle to overcome than any Titan. Though he had been a strategic serial killer in the Capital decades ago, Fate had dealt him something much more promising: a chance to assert his maniacal abilities within the Military. It had been the Ripper whom Erwin and his squad had been hunting for in the Underground–several years after his last assassination and abrupt exit from the shadow world–when they had instead caught a skinny-looking street urchin and his snarky sidekicks. Though Erwin hadn’t known it yet, the wild-eyed assassin and the impertinent little vagrant shared a grisly history.

They would reunite sooner or later, Levi and Kenny, and a battle to the death would ensue, one that would leave a gory mess with casualties abound. Levi had once said that his former Master had never approved of his hasty desertion and that Kenny Ackerman was not a forgiving man–evident in his brutal massacre of Historia’s birth mother and Dimo Reeves–but Erwin had shoved the had-been assassin to the edge of his mind, assuming he wouldn’t dare to appear again.

A fatal mistake. Kenny Ackerman _would_ come. For Historia and Eren he was sure of–they were too large a prize–but if he managed to incapacitate Levi on his murderous trail to them, or worse, kill him, Erwin would lose his most powerful piece in this delicate game of wits and schemes.

He sat down in the rickety chair by the window, his mind dancing with pictures of his Captain. _His_ Captain. He had inducted Levi into the Scouting Legion when the young man was seventeen and cared for him–in his own way–seeing though the serious teenager’s detached temperament and sensing a hidden intensity beneath his thick exterior that could grow into the Titans’ most formidable bane. Yet that care had grown into something more that Erwin himself hadn’t even been aware of until the Forest of Giant Trees.

Erwin loved Levi, yes: the kind of love that brought enemies together and betrayal to its slick knees. He refused to acknowledge their imminent separation–perhaps permanent–and his heart clung to the hope that he would see the other man’s face at least once more.

_But Mikasa Ackerman._

He couldn’t deny she was becoming significantly more paramount in his contrivances, apparent in her driven personality and single-minded aspirations; she would stop at nothing to protect her brother and keep him from harm, a feat she had yet to fail at. However, that wasn’t why the Cadet distracted Erwin so. He had high hopes for the young woman, believing that if Levi were to fall, she had proved herself worthy enough to replace him–The Girl Worth a Hundred Soldiers indeed–but it was the relationship between the two that perturbed him. Levi had mentioned that he was personally training Mikasa, a one-on-one guidance that his Captain hadn’t indulged himself in since his times with Cadets Church and Magnolia.

From Erwin’s standpoint, that had meant only one thing: Mikasa Ackerman had impressed the Captain.

In what way, he hadn’t a clue; promising soldiers filtered through the Scouting Legion like drops of water through a threadbare shirt and Levi hadn’t concerned himself with any of them; Erwin had believed her to be just another one of those. Not that he didn’t mind; Mikasa was perfectly suitable as a successor.

Was it because they shared the same last name? Did Levi feel some sort of guilt?

Or was it something much more _subtle?_ Like–dare he even say it–admiration?

It meant almost nothing to Erwin: Levi was permitted to engage in any sort of permissiveness he felt fit, trivial though it may be, as long as it didn’t interfere with their arrangements and he adhered to the pragmatic customs of the Scouting Legion. Though Erwin did have to admit his own peculiar fondness of the incisive man wasn’t particularly traditional, he hadn’t decided to act visibly on it; a relationship made for numerous headaches and heartaches which he wasn’t eager to welcome. If one of them elected to tighten the nebulous connection they shared, it could very well lead to the Scouting Legion’s undoing: the union of two exceedingly potent soldiers–each influential within their own ranks–with excessively zealous mentalities was perilous. They could refuse to place the other’s life in jeopardy, and Erwin would lose not one, but two soldiers dominant in the field: a risk he was not willing to take.

Considering her youthful and sincere spirit, Erwin believed Mikasa would be the first to stumble, should it come to that. Levi, he was still uncertain of, acknowledging the man’s repellent nature and refusal to accept the most atavistic cravings: the Captain was a man who never relinquished control of his body and Erwin had yet to observe the Captain trapped in any sort of psyche other than ire and steadfast aloofness.

He forced the issue down, choosing to trust the judgment of both soldiers, knowing each recognized the frailty of their present situation concerning Eren and Historia and that now was not a time to entertain could-be’s. Depending on the nature of their desperation though, impulsive obligation could evolve into devoted rapport; caution was crucial, especially between these two.

Erwin adjusted his position, the strain of his idle muscles trying to press against his missing arm. _Arm._ His mind flashed an image of the scar on Levi’s left arm and the identical one on Mikasa’s. They would find out sooner rather than later, as long as they kept up with their training together, and Erwin sighed in defeat.

Another tangle in this web of deceit and secrecy.

_Dead men walking._

-

A solitary shade crouched in the gloom of the archway denoting the entrance to a plain, dirty one-story building. A hat was pulled low in front over the face and a jacket flapped around the thin man’s legs as he hurried down the sooty backstreet. They had told him to wait outside, that a message would be delivered: a request. Or rather, an order, from the King himself.

What it was, he already knew: an abduction–possibly a murder–of some sort. A shiver wriggled up his spine. He had discerned the urgency of the summons, recognized the letterhead and seal on the envelope, and had already made up his mind. It had been much too long since his last job and his fingers were literally twitching, longing for action. Of course he would accept. As long as it paid well.

A quiet rustling penetrated his ears and he instinctively reached for the knife at his hip.

“Detain and disable.” A scratchy voice rasped behind him and a thick parcel was thrust into his hand.

Whipping around, he caught the receding back of a stranger in a white coat, the smell of disinfectant thick in the air. Ah. He had been expecting a more disheveled messenger, not a scientist. No matter. They were weird ones, these Underground folks. You never knew who your contact was, and you probably didn’t want to.

Slinking into a deep corner between a smoldering pile of garbage and the nearest wall, he tore into the package, heart racing with the excitement of a new chase. He drew out a thin file, the words written on the pages typed in a small print and parts of paragraphs blacked out and written over. Skimming through the papers, he read through his prey’s specifics, committing each to memory.

_Subject #38. DOB: December 24. Family: Parents – dead on arrival; orphan. No living relatives._ The pages went on to list multiple experiments conducted on the subject, none of them interesting enough to lure him into reading more in depth. So the Capitol had lost a dangerous lab rat and they wanted it back. Nothing too difficult.  

A black and white photograph was attached to the stack of papers and he nearly vomited. His breath hitched at the sight. Swear words fused with sentiment spewed in his brain and he touched the printed face gingerly.

_What have you done, my son? I taught you better._

Memories darted through his brain, depictions of a somber child, brazen and headstrong. The child had been too perfect to refuse tutelage to: a pupil he had thought would take his place as the Demon Wraith of the Underground.

But he had been stolen from him prematurely, something that saddened him deeply, yet fraught him with pity.

_Your father is not so forgiving anymore._

_Now your defiance will cost you your life._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: I will hopefully have the rest of the chapters a little less daunting and more fast-paced. Thank you for reading!
> 
> Reviews are, of course, welcome!


	5. The Color of a Lie

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one definitely took a while, but hopefully it delivers! A huge thank you and hug to k-lionheart/Midori Aoi and all of her suggestions and comments and input—go check out her fics "Thunder Clouds" and "Nimbus" if you haven't already! I hear the next chapter of Nimbus is gonna be one helluva ride.

_“You and your partner have been undeniably thick in handling this situation. Thick and remarkably imbecilic.”_

_“You said we had enough time! We did what we thought would be appropriate in reclaiming the subject.”_

_“Including sending the Ripper after him? Stupid and idiotic. We’ll be lucky if his head is still attached to his body! We need him alive and in prime condition!”_

_“Don’t worry. He won’t **kill** him. Not yet, at least.”_

_“You fool. No wonder you weren’t told the rest of the experiment. Did you think Levi was just another test subject?”_

_“He’s Number 38. Of course he’s ‘just another test subject.’ How is he any different than the rest of them?”_

_“He is **The** test subject. And a very fragile piece of equipment that **you** have sent Kenny the goddamn Ripper after. If that murdering bastard gets his hands on Levi’s blood…”_

_“We sent him to detain and disable. Not to **murder** the kid.”_

_“Then you’d better hope—for **your** sake and your partner’s—that he does exactly as he’s told. Parliament’s already issued a warning in the papers Above about Levi for the murder of CEO Dimo Reeves of the Reeves’ Corporation. You’ve made him a goddamned **fugitive** who’s got nothing to lose!”_

_“ **That** has nothing to do with us! The Scouting Legion does whatever the hell they want. If this streak of violence lands the test subject back into our hands, then so be it. It’s a win-win for both us and the Central MPs.”_

_“You just don’t get it, do you?”_

_“Just what the hell is there to **get?** ”_

_“Here. Read his file. All of it. Front to back. Two hundred and forty-six pages of why the hell you **don’t** want to fuck this up more than you already have.”_

_“You **can’t** be serious about this. On ice for **ten** years?! Why weren’t we told?”_

_“No one below the First Team of scientists who operated on him knew. Then they all mysteriously disappeared after the discovery of Mikasa Ackerman. Parliament’s First House only just released this file to us because of the recent ‘Scouting Legion emergency.’”_

_“The things done to this poor kid…but you’re right. Levi is **the** test subject. I can’t believe this.”_

_“Just finish reading the file. Come see me when you’re done, and pray the Ripper does what he was paid to do.”_

* * *

Mikasa stood outside the Captain’s room, staring grimly at the wooden door and wondering what she had done this time. Perhaps she was more curious than concerned though, and her skin prickled with nervous anticipation—surely the Captain had a legitimate reason.

She had arrived almost twenty minutes ago at 1500 hours like he had ordered her to, but Levi still hadn’t let her in—the sound of grunting and sharp cursing from within the room confirmed that the usually-composed man was indeed inside—he was making her wait for some reason. Already irritated at having to put off her daily chores (courtesy of the Captain _again_ ), Mikasa could wait no longer and yielded to her growing impatience.

Yet, just as she was about to push the door open and announce her presence, an abrupt cry of pain escaped from the crack beneath the door and she opened her mouth in alarm at the pitiful sound. Her hand was still raised to the wooden slab, frozen, shocked at the purely powerless wail. It was a sound not unlike a strangled cry from a terrible wound or injury, too great to even fully exclaim without wanting to curl up and wither away and it was something she had been absolutely certain _Humanity’s Strongest_ would never have made of his own volition. She hadn’t known the man very long, yet she could not deny the immense alarm and even twinge of sympathy at the stifled shout.

Whatever was happening in that room sounded distressing to say the very least, and without fully realizing what she was doing, Mikasa shoved the door inward, her mind narrowed to one word: _help._ If the Captain was in trouble, he needed assistance right away, no matter from whom it was—and no matter the consequences. “Captain. Captain!” His shattered ankle flashed across her brain.

However, the door opened to reveal the most unlikely sight she had thought she would never be privy to, and the next honorific died on her tongue as she felt her body go hot with embarrassment and horrified surprise.

The Captain was leaning over his desk with his back to her, a tight fist pressed to the top of a sloppy stack of papers, and his hair was soaking wet, faint plops of hot water beading from the black strands and onto the dark wood. However, the other hand was splayed out against his waist, the white fingers curled and pressing so hard they were turning the surrounding skin red.  Bare, it gleamed from yellow shimmers of sunlight colliding with streaks of water running down his back, and Mikasa held her breath as it stretched and tightened from his wheezing. Against her will, her eyes soaked in the blotchy canvas with pity, her initial revulsion quickly dwindling.

Scars. So many of them. Some small, some too big, and some that looked so jagged and erratic that she knew they couldn’t have been there by mistake. The largest one ran from his left shoulder to the small of his back, disappearing beneath the waist of his tight uniform pants. In a feeble attempt to recover from whatever wound had been inflicted, the skin had been stained a pasty white, and random tiny notches on each side of the ropy scar tissue indicated a haphazard stitch job. The injury was expertly placed, Mikasa sickly realized: much of the disfigured skin avoided the spinal cord, and though it ran across several ribs, it looked like it hadn’t been deep enough to break any. The word TORTURE skittered in her mind, and she unconsciously edged back toward the doorway.

The Captain was a truly eristic man—at least toward her, for reasons Mikasa would have liked to know—and anything but perfect, but she would have been the first to argue that he did not deserve such wounds and the grotesque marks they left, whether they had been made by a Titan or not. No one did, and the cruel display reminded her that even the strongest man in the world was still human. Her eyes softened at the long protrusions, and she silently doubted her long-held pugnacity against the Captain.

A grunt and the clinking of metal on wood snapped her from her scrutiny and she opened her mouth in response, quickly searching for an excuse. The Captain had ceased his atypical gasping, and Mikasa felt her own breath halt in her throat. For a violation like this, the punishment would no doubt be severe.

He lifted his head, the water shining through his hair at the sudden movement, but paused with his back still toward her. “What the fuck are you doing?” he growled out, his tone raspier than usual. His fist clenched tighter.

Mikasa swallowed, forcing her eyes away from his back, and replaced the anxiety in her voice with smooth apathy. “We had an appointment at 1500, sir—”

“That does not _explain_ why you felt entitled to waltz through my door without a fucking invitation, Cadet.” His speech was dangerously low—the usual smooth tenor had sunk to a scratchy baritone—and the inflections in his voice were bursting with acid. If one ignored the trenchant remark, he almost sounded ill.

 _Insubordination doesn’t suit you._ His previous words sing-sang in her head, but this time Mikasa defiantly ignored them, that previous doubt whisked away. _Replying to a call for help is not insubordination. I would have done the same for any other whether they asked or not._

With his back still turned toward her, he seized a white shirt from an adjacent chair and flung it around himself, concealing his marred skin—much to her troubled relief, and she capriciously wondered how many people had fortunately—or unfortunately—been permitted such a view. Shoving his arms through the long sleeves, he slowly pivoted to face her completely. His face was pale, yet deathly calm, and his glare was darkening.

She averted her eyes from her superior’s middle and flicked them up, meeting his fierce stare. “I heard a cry, sir. I was just responding accordingly. Permission to be dismissed.” Pressing her fist to her chest, she stood rooted to the wooden floor, refusing to break eye contact with her superior. The Captain was obviously not in a mood to talk about whatever he had wanted to see her for, let alone be reasonable, and her nerves were beginning to fray from attempting to recover from what she had seen.

He continued to glare at her, “Denied.” His fingers finished buttoning the garment and moved to reach the dangling straps of his gear. “Sit,” He pointed to the chair and moved toward the small bed against the wall; it looked like it hadn’t been slept in for a long time. “Explain yourself, Mikasa.”

Her name slithered from his lips like some sort of poison. The Captain had addressed her by her given name before—if only when giving orders and dealing out small remarks of his dissatisfaction with her sparring performance—but, this time the syllables were cold and clipped.

She gave a curt nod and did as she was told. “You asked to see me at 1500 hours today, sir. I am merely obeying your order.”

“Don’t get cheeky with me,” He snapped, pulling the straps over his shoulder and clasping the leather tightly against his chest. “Entering the room of a superior officer without permission is subject to a serious flogging, soldier. Why are you _here_?”

Mikasa’s face felt like stone. If he was going to be ungrateful, then so be it: she would reply likewise. “Understood, sir. While waiting for you, I heard a pained cry from inside this room that sounded like someone had been seriously hurt. I acted the way I deemed necessary for someone in distress. If you believe I acted wrongly, I will adjust my response for future occurrences.” She answered monotonously. She absolutely rejected the thought of conceding to him in this situation—he had no right to treat her like this after she had willingly come to help.

The only sound in the room came from the supple leather sliding against itself as the Captain threaded it through the metal loops and pinned it in place. He nodded once, but didn’t reply. The air in the room hung heavy with tension, and Mikasa narrowed her eyes in triumph.

She caught the flicker of something shiny the Captain was holding and she frowned, the bright flash of metal meeting her gaze. To her surprise, he was sheathing slender knives underneath the straps of his gear, the thin scabbards fitting neatly within the leather belts. They were unnoticeable unless looked-for and as he turned again, his side toward her this time, she noticed a slightly larger blade peeking from between the belt loops on his back. Through his dripping hair, he raised a thin eyebrow at her puzzlement, but didn’t address it.

“Noted,” he snapped his jacket across his shoulders, the sound snatching her attention away from the odd additions to his uniform. The shapeless garment wrapped around him snugly, and in the back of her mind, Mikasa felt a small tug of admiration. “This is your first and only warning. There will be no next time.”

“Thank you, sir.” She inhaled heavily, awaiting her dismissal. Surely, the Captain wouldn’t want to bother with her anymore—

“What did you see?” he asked sharply. He had taken the seat at his desk and was beginning to pull heavy stacks of paperwork toward him, yet his posture indicated an abnormal kind of stiffness and his face looked too strained with unusual effort for such a menial task. He didn’t meet her eyes as he started to write on an embossed slip of letterhead.

Mikasa stayed put, completely mystified. Was he referring to—?

“You saw, didn’t you?” It was more of an affirmation than a question, but the Captain continued to write, the scratch of ink on paper becoming deafening.  

The dark haired woman flicked her gaze away, abashed _._ “I apologize, sir, I didn’t realize—”

“Souvenirs of my past decisions,” he murmured savagely, “And those I was unable to prevent.”

She said nothing. There was no appropriate answer. Her head was swimming with uneasiness—was this a _conversation?_

“Mikasa. _Talk._ ”

Apparently it was.

“ _You_ asked to see me, sir _,” s_ he stated bluntly. He had given her permission to speak—freely, she might add—and if this was going to be a conversation, they needed to be on equal ground. “Might I ask for what?”

“Satisfied with your training?” He laid down his pen and drew another piece of paper toward him, examining whatever the contents were.

 _Where was this going?_ Though Mikasa no longer felt hesitant about the tense position she had seemingly been purposely placed in, she was beginning to believe that the Captain was indeed ill in the head. The situation was growing more awkward by the minute. “I…yes, sir. This past week has been most helpful.” What else could she say?

“And your improvement against your squad-mates? What of them?”

Mikasa shook her head, thankful he wasn’t looking directly at her. “I am able to best Jean using the tighter techniques you have taught me quicker now. Eren as well.”

“What of Eren?” The scratching stopped and he looked up, searching her face. “Your brother. He is prepared?”

“He’s fine, sir. Fine enough...to go through with your plan,” Mikasa lowered her head as her fingers twitched and curled over the fabric of her scarf, tugging the material closer to her chin unconsciously and dreading what she was about to say. “He’s willing to do whatever it takes.”

“Naturally. He understands our circumstances.” His next words were pointedly accusing. “Do _you?_ ”

So, that was what this was about. “I understand perfectly, sir. Ideally, I would rather not place my brother in _any_ potentially life-threatening situations,” Mikasa said between clenched teeth. He was beginning to get under her skin and she fought the temptation to outright argue, staring at the blank wall behind his head.

“Perhaps you should have thought otherwise before joining the Scouting Legion then,” he remarked acerbically.

Her response was almost mechanical, like the repetition of a mantra, “I had no choice, sir. I did what I had to.”

“You had _no_ choice?” Levi parroted with a snort, a single eyebrow lifting in a mocking expression, “I have a hard time believing Jaeger _coerced_ you and Arlert into becoming his permanent bodyguards.”

“That decision was _mine,_ and I am responsible for his and Armin’s safety!” Her voice leapt to an octave denoting frustration as she gripped the arms of the chair rigidly.

“Is that so?” The Captain challenged, his lip curling upwards for a fraction of a moment,“Is that what you truly believe? Is that what you truly _want?_ Because you’ve been moping about ever since our compromise with Dimo Reeves.”

Mikasa bristled, nostrils flaring as she replied, her lips pressing into harsh lines against gritted teeth, “Because _you_ have deliberately put him in danger again and _without_ my consent—!”

“—I did what I deemed _necessary._ ” Her own words flew from his mouth in a huff and she sat back, affronted. Levi continued, narrow eyes darkening and shoulders squaring tightly, as though shifting from within a heavier pain, a heavier burden that was no where close to the physical.

“You are not the only one held accountable for Eren Jaeger’s safety,” Levi uttered curtly and there was a flicker of something heavier that passed through his eyes, a haunting too quick to catch. Mikasa didn’t let it faze her.

“Then _you_ understand what—” Her swift protest ended with a fierce slam of his palm over the desk.

Levi spared her no room for more protests, “The only thing I understand is that you have no idea what you want, _Cadet_.” His laconic declaration had erased her brief argumentative attitude, leaving behind astonished disbelief.

Mikasa scowled, “I don’t understand, _sir._ ” Of course she knew what she wanted. The direction this “ _conversation_ ” had taken was downright ridiculous, and she was starting to become increasingly irked by this shorty telling her all about herself. He didn’t know _anything. He had no idea._

“Eren is his own person, and you are your own person, Mikasa. Do yourself and everyone else a favor and get that through your head.” The Captain turned back to his report and ran a hand through his wet hair, as he blinked once, twice, three times, his long lashes beating heavily against his cheek. He finally sighed, “You’re dismissed.”

Mikasa balled her hands into fists on her lap and bit back a stream of expletives. She had been expecting an assessment or some other announcement from her superior, not this one-sided conversation about her ideals and snippy comments on her apparently illogical life choices. So, she ignored the abrupt dismissal and continued, a slow building enmity licking fire through her words.

“The choices I have made are my _own,_ ” she hissed, struggling to keep her voice from rising any further. “I don’t remember asking _you_ to determine if they are right or wrong, nor do you have the right to judge what I do with my life! Eren is my _brother,_ and I refuse to let you gamble with his life like that! How _dare_ you assume I wouldn’t even be the least bit concerned over his wellbeing?!”

“And did Eren give _you_ permission to speak for him?” He snarled back. “As top of your class, I assumed you had the same sense and maturity he has shown throughout this entire fucking operation.” His voice cut through her heated words like ice. Frigid and unmerciful. “Cut the shit, Ackerman. You’re lying to yourself and you know it.”

Mikasa surged from her chair, livid, not caring for it as it fell to the ground. “You’re so cold, you’ve probably forgotten how to feel, haven’t you, Captain?” she sneered. “You have no idea what it’s like anymore, do you?” She was aiming to hurt now, and from the pained look on his face, she knew she had hit a nerve. “You think _you_ know what _I_ want? Is that it?” To hell with decorum.

He shoved away from the desk and stood up violently, a blue vein pulsing in his neck. “Someone ought to,” He growled. “I will not have you compromise this entire mission just because you feel _insecure. Dismissed._ ”

Mikasa wasn’t done. “I perfectly understand the gravity of our predicament. You are sorely mistaken if you think you know me, Captain.”

“Judging from what I’ve seen of your recent pathetic behavior, I have a pretty good idea.” He sneered, his lips pressed into a thick red line and his eyes narrowed to slits. “Get _out._ ”

“Gladly,” Mikasa hissed, and barged through the door, making sure to slam it on her way out. She was a fool for believing she could persuade him, and her heart constricted as she recognized she might never be able to.

* * *

 

They avoided each other the next morning—Levi had sent a terse message to the girls’ room stating their usual sparring lesson had been canceled due to their impending departure to initiate the next part of Erwin’s plan—and he couldn’t help but feel marginally guilty about the previous day. He had forced Mikasa out of her sullenness, snapping her steadfast aloofness about Eren’s predetermined kidnapping. She was upset about it, that much was certain, and almost to the point of relentless fixation: her sparring performance had dropped considerably and her usual rapt attention during Squad meetings had disintegrated to blatant absentmindedness. Her strange behavior in the gym hallway two days ago had only added to his growing suspicion. Something had needed to be done.

So he had done it, called her in and had an argument—a rather heated one too, and perhaps more effective than was needed, as both parties had managed to grievously hurt the other in their verbal battle. Their fragile relationship was now strained and now Levi wasn’t sure whether he wanted to repair it (an irresponsible soldier was a useless soldier, and Mikasa was no different, top of her class or not) or leave it as it was.

His squad was scheduled to leave for the designated safe-house in a half-hour and as the rest of the team was finishing the preparations, Levi found he was free to think—a dangerous pastime, but his mind was bursting with conjecture. A light workout seemed optimal to clear his head at the moment, and as he stripped down to his undershirt in the ring behind Headquarters, he forced himself to erase any antagonistic thoughts about his subordinate. He was sure she had continued to contemplate his words—bitterly, no doubt—after their explosive parting, but hoped she had adjusted her behavior accordingly; he would try to do the same.

Despite his personal insistence to the contrary, her accusation cut deep into his conscience: _You’re so cold, you’ve probably forgotten how to feel, haven’t you, Captain? You have no idea what it’s like anymore, do you?_ Petra’s green eyes fluttered in front of him and he clenched his teeth, pushing himself harder into his routine. Perhaps he didn’t know anymore—perhaps he had been lying to himself too. Because _family_ was one thing he and Mikasa didn’t have in common and while he knew she would never allow herself to lose what she had so desperately fought to have, he couldn’t exactly say the same for himself. Since joining the Scouting Legion, his Squad had filtered through so many faces—some longer than others—and in the silent dead of night, he sometimes wondered wretchedly just how many it would go through before he himself was replaced.

His punches became wilder as his frustration grew into misery, each strike ending in images of Erd, Jean, Rickon, Armin, Bella, Kieran, Gunther, Maddox, Historia, Idris, Auruo, Tabitha, Sasha, Cerys, Connie, Petra, Eren, _Mikasa._ The list went on. He had sent countless soldiers to their deaths, and considering the Scouting Legion’s odds, his new Squad would be no different. Would he feel anything for them when the inevitable happened? Or was Mikasa right—had he finally been successful in numbing himself against mercy?

 _Her_ face suddenly appeared in front of the rest of the ghostly likenesses and Levi flipped backward, stumbling at the unexpected image and panting in shock. Thick tresses of red hair pulled into a ponytail waved below her chin and laughing green eyes playfully invited him forward—he stood there with his burning arms raised, every hair standing on end. _She_ had no place among his beloved comrades; betrayal held no seat amidst honor. Yet his heart wrenched with an old pang of tenderness that he had made sure to destroy years earlier and with a gratifying snarl, he swiped through the mirage, his body aching with more than just fatigue. He _didn’t_ know what it was like anymore,because _she_ had showed him what happened to people who cared too much.

A thick rustling sound pricked his ears and Levi spun on his heel, the knife on his back already in hand and his stance lowered in defense. Breathing through his nose as silently as he could, he inched forward, his nerves electrifying with apprehension as he searched the nearby forested area for any intruders. He had given specific orders to his squad that he was _not_ to be interrupted no matter what, but the damned teenagers had a bad habit of not following simple commands completely.

“Captain!” Connie’s voice cut in from across the ring behind him and Levi almost threw the knife at him in startled vexation.

 _Just a stupid animal._ He reasoned and turned from the forest to his subordinate, the vision of _her_ still burning in his head—but he couldn’t be bothered with her now. “I distinctly remember giving the order not to disturb me, Springer.” With a practiced hand, he flipped the knife back into its sheath against his belt, the blade grazing his fingers with a sharp caress.

“You did, Captain,” Connie saluted, the green cloak around his shoulders fluttered as he panted. “But we just got word from one of the scouts—they’re already ready, sir! Reeves and his men, I mean.”

Levi’s brain crackled to life, all thoughts focused on the present mission. He would have to deal with his crumbling conscience later. “We’ll meet him ahead of schedule then. Tell the others we move out in five minutes.” He said quickly and Connie nodded, saluted again, and ran back the way he came.

The Captain turned back to the part of the forest that had produced the strange noise and jogged forward a little. Still seeing nothing, he frowned and followed Connie, picking up the rest of his discarded uniform and pulling it on as he exited the ring.

No more thoughts about Eren, Petra, Mikasa, _her_ —the time for foolish pondering was over—he needed to do what he did best: sacrifice.

* * *

 

A tall woman and an even taller man rose to their feet from behind the yellow-green foliage, both watching the retreating back of the Captain of the Scouting Legion, silently waiting until he was out of sight. With a long sigh, the man gave one last glance at the empty sparring ring and turned away, shoving his hands into the pockets of a long coat.

“You almost gave us away,” The woman chided softly, following her partner through the dense leaves. They avoided the main path as they picked their way deeper into the trees and back to their hidden companions.

“It seems Levi has much on his mind nowadays. He’s become sloppy,” The man pushed his hat further down his face, shielding his eyes.

Leaves crunched beneath the woman’s boots in step with him. “But, it looks like he’s kept up with your training. Wasn’t that one of your little knife tricks back there? Even _I_ don’t know it.” She trotted forward to catch up and offered a small, albeit forced, smile, “Then again, he always was your favorite.”

“Indeed. The finest pupil I’ve ever taught,” the man gave a small nod and turned to face her. “However, you were a bit different from the others.” He pressed himself against a broad tree trunk, motioning for the woman to do the same.

She said nothing and only drew up the hood of her cloak in reply, masking her unease.

“Will you be alright?” He asked quickly, and gave a sharp whistle. “You know I must follow my orders.”

“I’ll be fine,” She answered hoarsely. “If all goes well...”

Four men and women noiselessly dropped from overhanging branches, each wearing dark colors and rifles slung across their backs. “Sir. They’re moving out with Eren Jaeger and Historia Reiss as planned,” one of the women addressed the tall man gruffly.

“Thank you, Lieutenant. Move ahead with the operation. Make it as clean as possible.” He nodded toward the group, dismissing them. As they moved away, he stated gently, “If all goes well, you will have nothing to worry about. You’ll get what you want.”

Next to him, the woman nodded and hung her head lower.

Kenny Ackerman smiled grimly, his eyes hidden below the brim of his hat. “But first, we shall see just how much my pupil has kept up with his training.”

* * *

 

Tensions did not fade easily with time, it would seem. With the Scouting Legion’s esteem running black through the government and the people alike, the revamped Levi Squad took to the shadows. From a warm cot and comfortable, albeit tight, living quarters to hard ground and bleak shelter, trust in their leader was paramount for their survival. A fact, Mikasa noted with some disdain, which placed tensions in harder places within the joints of her neck and toughened spots of her shoulders.

Yet whether she was infuriated or reluctantly agreeing with Captain Levi, Mikasa still wasn’t certain. Two days ago, his vicious treatment of Historia had outraged everyone, including Jean—which was surprising, because Mikasa would have thought he’d have been the first to agree that whatever needed to be done should be done—but Mikasa had found herself silently agreeing with her superior’s words, though harsh they had been.

_I’m satisfied playing the role of the murderer. Because then, all of humanity won’t have to._

Arrogant words—not to mention brash—for a single person, but Mikasa knew the Captain didn’t need to back them up. If the Titans were no match for _Humanity’s Strongest,_ who was to say humans were any different? _“If you win, you live.”_ Fitting, she thought; the Protector becomes the Martyr—a woeful transformation the Captain had chosen, but perhaps he had felt he was responsible as _Humanity’s Strongest._ Who better to die first while selflessly shielding the masses from greedy, murdering deceivers? She understood.

Or did she? She shuddered and pulled her jacket tighter, quickly glancing toward her chatting friends and edging toward a corner of the stable. Would she be willing to cut down hundreds, if not thousands, to secure everyone else’s safety? Would she be able to live with it afterward, was probably the more sobering question. One murder was enough—the ugly face of the kidnapper grinned at her in the rotting wood and she shrank against the wall—but that had been out of self-defense and she and Eren would have _died._ But, did that really amount to Levi’s weighty declaration of becoming a downright murderer for _humanity_ and not for himself? He hadn’t been asking any of his squad to follow him, but the gravity of his perception had struck Mikasa’s conscience, because right then, she _knew._

Levi’s question echoed in her mind: _Do you know what you want? Do you really?_ Perhaps he hadn’t been asking if she knew _what_ she wanted. Perhaps it had been a question of whether she knew the implications and consequences of what she was so adamant and passionate about. Was she willing to _accept_ the ramifications of keeping Eren safe—he was a dangerous weapon all sides were desperately fighting to possess now—and could she follow through? The possibilities frightened her.

She had left Levi’s room that day seething and frustrated, not knowing what he was truly after. Anger at him, at herself, her inability to focus, his ability to see right through her; she had been flooded with a wave of emotions so hot, she had almost stomped right back through his door for another lashing. Yet, her pride hadn’t let her, and so she had silently boiled the next day, refusing to speak with anyone except in one-word answers. Armin, who was usually so gently forthright in his words, had decided to steer clear of his resentful friend and hadn’t dared to approach her—something Mikasa had deeply regretted: though brutally realistic in his rationale, he was normally the one she would turn to whenever her mind was in shambles and he probably would have seen the truth behind the Captain’s words right away.

She had been left alone to deal with her problem—which took the form of the disgruntled Captain—and forced to dig inside herself; now that it was out in the open (at least between her and her superior), it couldn’t be suppressed any longer. _I **know** what I want. To keep Eren and Armin safe. They’re the only family I have left, and I **will** fight for them. I already have._

 _You’re **lying** to yourself, Mikasa._ Levi’s rough voice cut through her brain.

 _How is that lying?_ She tightened her fingers into fists at her sides, her eyes darting from right to left against the stable her team had taken refuge in.

 _If you **really** wanted Eren and Armin to be safe, why did you let them join the Scouting Legion? Certain death awaits them both sooner rather than later, and now look where Eren is. In the hands of the Central Military Police. _ Levi’s voice continued to prod her.

 _We did what we had to._ Mikasa felt her heart sink at her own admittance. Surely, the Captain had noticed her reaction, or lack thereof, when they had found out that Dimo Reeves had been murdered? And had (seemingly) kept her cool when Eren and Historia had been taken away? _It was Eren’s dream. He had a dream. Who am I to take that away?_

_So, what is your dream? Who is **Eren** to take **yours** away? Why fight for someone else’s dream, instead of your own? _

She was arguing with herself now, but the other voice in her head had decided to assume the Captain’s—an uncanny resemblance of their previous argument. Ironically, Mikasa didn’t think she would win this one either.

_Is that your one and only desire then? To wonder constantly whether Eren and Armin are out of harm’s way? To worry constantly about their own problems for them? Be selfish for once, Mikasa. You have something you’ve kept concealed from them for so long._

_I **know** what my purpose is in life. I will **never** abandon them.  _

_Mikasa. Let go._

Her eyes were stinging now, even though the weather was warm. A horse whinnied in a nearby stall, but Mikasa could only hear the Captain’s voice in her head.

_Let go._

_They still need me. I need them._

_Liar. Stop lying to yourself._

She gritted her teeth and almost smacked her head on an outstretched beam, nearly tumbling into a neat pile of hay. _I am not a liar._ Sighing miserably, she reached out to stroke the mane of one of the horses, gazing deep into its black eye at her own reflection. She hadn’t been able to meet Levi’s own piercing stare when he had said those words: _I’m satisfied playing the role of the murderer._ The Captain knew what _he_ wanted and had no doubt accepted what he was up against long ago—he had said it outright, making sure to impale everyone around him with his statement—and Mikasa had felt his stare linger on her just a little while longer than it had on the rest of her friends. It had burned.

Why didn’t he get it? What else _could_ she want? There _was_ nothing else. Safety came at a terrible price in the Scouting Legion, and she felt nothing short of relief and ecstasy whenever Eren was returned to her. Wasn’t _that_ supposed to be enough? They were probably living on borrowed time anyway, it would be selfish to want anything more. But now…

“I don’t want to kill humans,” Jean’s voice was low and muttered by the far wall. “I wouldn’t be able to do it.”

Mikasa froze, her chest abruptly aching for her fellow squad mates. She had tuned out their earlier conversation, but Jean’s admission brought her crashing back to the present. Killing. Of course. Everything revolved around everyone’s resolve: were you a soldier, or were you already dead? Saying nothing, she caught Armin’s face: a mixture of fear and solemn acceptance.

“The Captain terrified Historia,” Sasha was saying. “He must want to continue pulling her strings when she becomes Queen.”

“I can’t…I _won’t_ join any group that acts out of order. I wanted to _save_ humanity,” Jean’s voice was assertive even though it wavered at the end.

Mikasa lowered her head. Jean was quickly retracing Eren’s ideals, a trait Mikasa would have normally applauded him for doing. However, now wasn’t the time to question what, or even _whom,_ they were fighting for, and she suddenly realized only one thing was for certain: they had no choice. A dark thought crossed her mind and Mikasa recognized that selfishness—her own for bemoaning Eren’s situation and wanting the impossible, and Jean’s for refusing to follow orders for his own peace of mind—would only prevent them from reaching their goal.

“We were given our orders. For Historia and Eren’s safety, we have to trust in the Captain’s decisions. Everyone,” she lowered her eyelids, her mouth quickly drying, “Make a decision.” Trust wasn’t something she gave away on a whim, but she would be a fool to deny it to the Captain—it could very well mean life or death for her and Eren. Looking around at her friends, she could only sigh and turn away, knowing how they must feel. Levi hadn’t given them the order to kill, but considering what they were up against, it might very well be necessary. Mikasa would do everything in her power to make sure Eren stayed safe, no matter who got in her way. _I can do it._ _I know what I want, Captain. If it comes down to it, I’ll **show** you that I’m willing to fight._

Up until recently, her world had been win or lose, fight or die, black or white. Unwanted splashes of red had occasionally seeped through her carefully fortified constructs of the way everything should be, but those she had painted over and hid from view to be nothing more than painful mistakes in the overall framework. Now, shades of gray and hues of complex colors had infiltrated—some the exact same shade as Captain Levi’s wintry gunmetal irises and a few of Eren’s pine green flitted—and though she found the spectrum beautiful, it did nothing to illuminate her path to contentment.

Eren’s green was the safe and conservative route: one she had been traveling down for years now, and while it wasn’t easy, it was familiar and predictable. But, Levi’s gray was close to obsidian—so dark she couldn’t even anticipate the next twist or turn. So did she follow her brother or her Captain? Her own ultimatum to her teammates pushed her closer to the looming fork in the road: _Make a decision._ Whatever she chose, there would be no turning back.

* * *

 

What Mikasa didn’t know was that she would be forced to make that decision so quickly.

Gunshots reverberated down the tapering street she and the rest of the squad were waiting in, but the casket wagon holding Historia and Eren was due to appear any moment. Without the Captain or any of the other senior officers with them, the heavy choice fell to her and her teammates.  

“We need to switch strategies,” said Armin quietly. “The Captain and the others must have been discovered. We can’t afford to wait for them.”

No one dared to disagree. Armin’s sound logic had kept them all alive thus far.

“It’s getting _closer!_ ” Sasha murmured, her face ashen.

“Shh! The casket wagon’s—!”

The whine of cables ejecting and pained grunts erupted from the arches of the Wall where Captain Levi burst through, pursued by men and women in what looked like three-dimensional maneuvering gear, but instead of blades in their hands, they held handguns. Whoever these people were, they were efficient and deadly, aiming for the Captain with sprays of bullets, the intent to slaughter him perfectly readable on their faces.

Mikasa could do nothing but watch, paralyzed at the unfolding scene, and it seemed Jean and Sasha and Connie and Armin felt the same terror. They hadn’t been noticed by the ruthless soldiers yet and her eyes darted after her superior, clothes torn and drenched in blood. Her mouth dropped open in wordless shock and the image of his scarred back pounded in her skull. Was this…?

Jean emitted a sharp gasp as Levi flung himself against the brick wall of a building, dodging gunshots and flipping through the air, swinging closer toward them. Heart hammering, Mikasa could see he was already hurt—and her body tightened in panic. There was no way swords against bullets...

“The Captain…” Connie whispered, his eyes glimmering with hopelessness.

But then, a painful shriek exploded from the closest enemy, and they all looked up in time to see that the Captain had launched one of his grapple hooks _into_ the man and had flipped his left sword into his infamous backhand grip. His eyes were no longer the relaxed gray they were used to: a savage storm now raged in them, and lightning streaked as he retracted the cable violently, face hidden behind a veil of scarlet.

“ _NO...!_ ”

A hideous ripping sound that would stay with them forever met their ears and Mikasa fought to tear her eyes away from the man cut in two. Blood showered the street below and the two halves of the body dropped with a sickeningly wet _thud_ against the pavement, still twitching. Nevertheless, the Captain had moved on, veering just above them and brandishing the red sword. This time though, the blood didn’t evaporate.

“He killed him…” Jean whispered, frozen in his saddle. “He _killed_ …”

“Go to the left.” Mikasa was the first to regain her composure—what little there was left—and tried to force the grisly image from her mind. She could barely hear her own voice over the ringing in her ears, still echoing the yell of the man.  

_I’m satisfied playing the role of the murderer._

_I’m satisfied playing the role of the murderer._

_I’m satisfied playing the role of the **murderer…**_

Levi dropped from the sky and into the back of the cart Armin was driving, lacking the grace he usually displayed. He wobbled into a crouched position and had to grasp the edge of the cart for support, almost out of breath. “We need to give up on Eren and Historia for now.” The cuts above his eye and on his cheek had smeared half of his face red, giving him a barbaric mask. “They’re using them to lure us out and kill us.”

Sasha gasped, “But we’re—”

Levi was already giving out orders and didn’t pause: “Armin, find the nearest level ground. Sasha and Connie, lead the horses. Jean, return gunfire. Mikasa and I will use the three-dimensional gear to engage any enemies.”

Mikasa’s stomach sank and her skin grew clammy. _Do you **know** what you want?_ Levi’s persisting question had tattooed itself on his lips and she knew what she was being ordered to do. _Can you do what you must?_

“We’ll find Eren and Historia another way.” Was that pity or remorse in his eyes? “When you can kill the enemy, _do it._ ” His voice had softened, but there was no regret in it.

Jean staggered, the whites of his eyes glowing against the darkening daylight. “Mikasa…”

“Understood,” she bit out, reinforcing the steel over her heart. An order was an order, and right now, she felt she had no place to object. These soldiers with their strange gear were after the lives of the Scouting Legion, and that included the four friends next to her. They needed her help _now._ Eren didn’t. Looking into the tempest of Levi’s eyes, she made her decision. _Goodbye, Eren._

“Captain! They’re coming!” Armin screeched.

Nodding to her, Levi whirled around and jumped off the wagon, letting gravity lurch him toward the oncoming enemies, his swords already out. Following him, Mikasa let the exhilaration of battle overcome her senses and something beneath her skin crackled with ferocity, quickening her every movement. The wind pulled at her clothes and hair…then a spark ignited in her brain. _Fight!_

An opponent aimed his gun at her, but Levi was faster, hurling one of the blades at him with one hand. She didn’t look back as she raced down the street, but the agonized cry from the enemy and Jean’s horrified exclamation told her the man had ceased to be a threat.

She evaded another enemy and ducked as another swung his weapon toward her, but three knives pierced his neck before she could react and his head snapped back, blood dribbling from his mouth and spraying from the wounds. Swiveling as neatly as she could in midair, she spied the cast-out hand of the Captain, his fingers gliding through the air in a sleek arc, another knife already in hand as he rolled over her.

“Shit!” Levi threw over his shoulder as a woman in a ponytail pitched over Mikasa and swung right next to Armin. Jean had barely enough time to turn around before a gun was shoved into Armin’s petrified face.

Mikasa’s instincts kicked in as well as her fury toward these people—why were they even after them?—and with a well-timed flip, she kicked the woman in the back of the head, blood spraying from her mouth. Her cable didn’t allow her to follow with a fatal blow and she was forced to watch from on high as Jean was struck down and made to look down the barrel of the woman’s gun. Endgame…here…of all places…

“ _JEAN!!_ ”

A single and terrible crack echoed and Mikasa felt her heart weep.

* * *

 

Their refuge was a dingy little shack in the middle of the forest, and from the look of it, it hadn’t been used in several years. Silence filled the close air of the stable as her friends set up camp, rested, prepared, and _recovered_ from the horror they had just witnessed, but Mikasa couldn’t be bothered to help, especially at a time like this.

Her breath came unevenly in sync with Armin’s as they held onto each other under the gloom of a tree trunk, the only solace they could find. “I’m sorry, Mikasa…I’m sorry…I’m _sorry._ ” Armin was saying, but Mikasa said nothing as he sobbed and retched. The smell of his shock was almost overwhelming, and she wished she could take back the last few hours.

It was maliciously ironic that Armin’s first kill would be another human—just like her, she thought wretchedly—but she couldn’t doubt that her friend had grown up. In a horrible way, though, but he had saved Jean and probably the rest of them too by killing that woman. “It’s fine,” She said hoarsely, not knowing what else to say that would console him; there _was_ nothing else she could say. It was cruel.

She eyed Levi as she stepped through the rickety doors of the stable and he at her, but neither said a word as she walked past—his face darkened when she barely shook her head, indicating Armin’s anguished state. Sasha was stitching up the Captain’s arm in the corner, but his face belied no pain even as the needle was pulled through his skin—more painful events had since transpired.

 _What a gift…to be able to show no torment._ Mikasa couldn’t bring herself to blame the Captain for what had happened—if anything, everything had gone according to plan: he gave the order to kill if necessary, Armin followed through, and no one had been compromised. They were all safe and relatively unscathed because of it.

However, the success of the mission meant nothing if you were fifteen and forced to kill. _Fifteen._ The age of legal adulthood, but still much too young to carry such a heavy burden. What other fifteen-year-old could advertise such a gruesome achievement?

Did she thank the Captain? Or condemn him for wrenching away Armin’s innocence?

 _Whatever you choose, you cannot regret the decision you make._ Eren had soberly repeated Levi’s words to her after the defeat of the Female Titan, and Mikasa found she couldn’t disagree. The war had shifted from against the Titans to bloodthirsty humans, and if dirtying her hands meant the protection of those she loved, who was she to deny it? Armin had already accepted it—if unwillingly—and Mikasa’s equivocation finally buckled, the Obsidian road beckoning to her.

Armin…the frightened little boy she and Eren so often had to protect from bullies…his will was stronger than hers.

* * *

 

In the blackness, Levi’s hearing was magnified too much and his head hurt with the influx of noises; creaking, whistling, shuffling, scraping—even outside the filthy barn he could hear his subordinates’ breathing, and his brain automatically identified the five peacefully sleeping teenagers by their sighs. He had taken the first watch four hours ago, but after what they had been through today, he resolved to let them get as much rest as they could. He hadn’t signed up to be a _babysitter_ when he had joined the Scouting Legion, but these kids…they were worth it.

There was a scuff against the opposite side of the wall he was leaning on followed by a low moan, and he leaned back, sighing. It really was regrettable, and had he been able, he would have prevented it, knowing exactly what Armin and Jean were going through: the trauma would never disappear, and the nightmares would plague them for the rest of their lives. Soldiers though they were, they were still just _kids._

Another moan, this time louder, grew into a full sob, and Levi hung his head. “ _No…no…you can’t…no…_ ” Sitting straight up and pulling the rifle into his hands, Levi jerked forward, feeling the wounds on his face split again. It was Mikasa’s voice and it was pleading mercy—the kind only a damned prisoner would exhale.

No time for ifs or buts, he ripped open the doors, immediately searching for her sleeping figure. It was there in an isolated corner, away from the others. Upon squinting in the dark, he saw she was clutching her arm and her eyes were rolling wildly beneath her lids.

What should he do? Glancing back toward the closed doors and making sure the rest of his squad wasn’t suffering the same, he stood above her stupidly, having no clue what he was to do. For the first time in a long time, Captain Levi was at a total loss. Did he leave her to her night terror? Did he disturb her already disquieted sleep?

Leaning down and dropping to his knees, he reached out a quivering hand. Perhaps whatever her mind was showing her would disappear…

Her eyes snapped open and for the longest five seconds of his life, they stared at one another in the dark. Without warning, she reached up and seized his outstretched hand, gripping it with a crushing hold and cradling it close. Her body began to shake visibly and her sobs were muffled in the surrounding hay. “ _They hurt me…_ ” She whispered, barely audible to the normal ear, but Levi could hear every quake in her words.

Fully confounded, he tried to reclaim his hand, but Mikasa held fast and he gave in after a few feeble tugs, still unsure of what to do. Was she even _awake?_

“ _They cursed me…_ ” She continued. Her fingernails dug into the back of his hand and he grit his teeth to keep from hissing.

“Mikasa, wake up.” He ordered, but there was hardly any conviction behind his command. “Mikasa. _Mikasa._ ” It was useless. So, he sat there next to her, watching her chest rise and fall with every heaving breath; she was in some sort of weird stupor and if her words hadn’t been so severe, this whole situation would be very bizarre—not to mention compromising.

“ _You’re in danger…_ ” She breathed, and hiccupped roughly, her breath fighting to release from her lungs.

“What?” Levi bent over her, suddenly alarmed. Was she speaking to him or some other specter in her unconsciousness? But his mind wasn’t as completely muddled as his subordinate’s thought, and he shook his head and blinked. Tucking this, yet another, strange utterance from Mikasa into the growing pile, Levi reminded himself that nothing she said could be taken _that_ seriously—she was _dreaming._ They were all in danger and it wasn’t like he was anyone _special._ “Ackerman. Let _go_ of me.”

She didn’t say anything more and her breathing returned to a faint whimper, but she didn’t let go of his hand; her skin was rough beneath his own and her fingers twitched against the clasp as he curled and uncurled his fingers. For a brief moment, he was jolted back to a gloomy day in the Underground—little Isabel’s good-natured face staring up at him in awe as she took his hand—and something in his heart wrenched as he completely surrendered.

It had been quiet all night and though they were far from safe, he didn’t expect them to be found at this time in this dirty little shack. So he swept the dark cloak from his shoulders and spread it over Mikasa gently, moving to lay awkwardly next to her on the soft hay. She still hadn’t released his hand, but he thought with some reluctance that maybe this one time, it was alright.

* * *

 

Pale sunlight was barely trickling into the barn from the roof when Mikasa finally cracked open her eyes, and she was met with a musky fragrance invading her nose. It was rich and soothing— _and distantly familiar_ —and she inhaled deeply, her muscles loosening as she smiled into her blanket and snuggled against her pillow.

Except upon squeezing it, she rapidly discerned her pillow was most definitely _not_ a pillow and something much more dynamic. Sitting up and scattering hay, she blinked, trying to rid her eyes of the bleariness that often accompanied sleep, and would have screamed if she weren’t Mikasa Ackerman and mature enough to know that this was not something to flip out over. Probably.

The Captain had served as her temporary pillow—for how long she didn’t know but she definitely did not _want_ to—and was presently turned away from her on the large pile of hay, his head facing the opposite wall. His breathing was even, denoting his unconscious state, his body lay exposed to the cold, and his usual cloak discarded somewhere.

Mikasa dared not move lest she wake him, but she was now fully alert, her mind exploding with questions: she had gone to sleep alone in this corner so when did he get here? And why? She gathered her blanket closer to her face and inched away quietly, breathing in the warm fragrance.

All at once, the spicy scent came rushing at her and her brain was immediately drowned in him again. She almost flung the cloak away from her in shocked familiarity, but she felt herself pause, the thick material centimeters away from her nose. _Why was it **always** him?_

Maybe her own cloak hadn’t been enough during the night and he had heard her shivering while out on watch. Or maybe he had decided that guarding was pointless and had sought rest in her corner, shedding his cloak on top of her unknowingly. Or maybe he was just being nice.

Whatever the reason, Mikasa sighed and looked over the Captain, noticing that the wrinkles around his eyes had virtually disappeared and the deep lines in his forehead had smoothed—he looked younger and more at peace, she realized, and the perpetual scowl on his mouth had also fled, leaving his face tranquil and content. It suited him better, she thought, and her mind eased from the initial confusion. Perhaps he was forgiven for nearly giving her a heart attack so early in the morning.  

Looking over her shoulder to where the rest of the squad lay, she counted four bodies sprawled out—it seemed no one had taken the watch after the Captain and she supposed it wouldn’t hurt to look around before they all woke. As silently as she could manage, she rose, breathing in one last quick inhalation before returning Levi’s cloak to him, and blanketed his curled form, careful not to touch him.

This didn’t change anything. This small act of kindness—considerate as it was—would not earn her forgiveness for the violent words he had spat weeks ago. Mikasa was not ungrateful, and while any other grudge would entice some kind of violence to get even, she was not petty. Even so…was such a grudge worth holding on to? Especially when he was not the only one whose words had been coated in ire?

Even so, her own words bit back into her chest, _You’re so cold, you’ve probably forgotten how to feel, haven’t you, Captain? You have no idea what it’s like anymore, do you?_

A twinge of regret worked a strange muscle beneath her ribcage, churning at her stomach and forcing her to turn all her attention away from the still-sleeping Captain. Scowling, Mikasa tried to shove the irritating emotion away, not seeing why she, of all people, would feel the need to apologize for the acid they had both equally spat at one another.

Quiet, and mindful of the sleeping and the faint light of early morning, Mikasa pushed herself toward where Connie had been supposed to have taken the last watch. Despite the sour sensation in her belly, she let the buzz cut soldier sleep by his pile of hay and straw, wanting nothing more than to remain alone. Against her will, her mind jumped back once more to the verbal lashing she had exchanged with their leader.

Had she not been justified in her words? Yes, perhaps she may have gone too far…but she was not alone in that crime. _Now there are several more crimes we can share._ The images of the dead and breathing sobered the heat from her mind, sucking away at her indignant stubbornness and leaving a hollow shell—a painful reminder that made her eyes seek out their captain and land on the leg he had wounded for her sake, for Eren’s sake. _Humanity’s Strongest…injured because of me._ At this point in the game, none of them could afford useless grudges, justified as they were, and while she wished she hadn’t heard it from him, Captain Levi was right. She was not the only one who cared for Eren, who would sacrifice everything for him, and if scorekeeping came into play, Levi had paid a price heftier than she had. He had lost his squad—she didn’t doubt that he felt the same way she did for her own comrades—he had lost his _family,_ in the fight to protect the titan-shifter.

_You are not the only one held accountable for Eren Jaeger’s safety._

Nothing else could be closer to the truth. This, Mikasa was slowly realizing.

Now, human blood stained her palms as well as their Captain’s. They were all covered in shared filth…all for Eren.

With a heavier heart, Mikasa let out a soft sigh as she turned her eyes to stare at the brightening sky, she allowed herself to hope (at least) that this man’s dreams were free from the red that now unmercifully governed their waking lives.

* * *

 

_“I take it from your slack jaw that you finished reading the file.”_

_“Administered **five** doses of the Serum in the span of two weeks. Three major surgeries and nine minor for sense and tissue enhancement. Multiple intellect analyses. And all of it before he was bloody **two** years old. Goddamn. And then put on ice for a whole **decade?** They lied to us…”_

_“Don’t act so surprised. Lying’s not beneath them if it gets them what they want.”_

_“And his parents? His lineage? The whole reason he was brought to us in the first place? How long ago was this Project implemented?”_

_“Didn’t you read the damn file? Six generations. Roughly around the time the Titans were last seen. Don’t you see? Over a hundred years of meticulous planning, and now it’s all gone out the window.”_

_“How were **we** to know the supremacy of the specimen we were operating on? Did they not trust us with the information?”_

_“Obviously. Pretty volatile shit you’ve let out of the cage now. And Kenny Ackerman...did you even read the goddamn paper this morning? Your mercenary tried to kill him!”_

_“But he **didn’t.** From what he’s sent us, Kenny’s shifted his attention to the Jaeger brat and the Reiss bastard for now. Something about luring Levi down here. I still can’t believe this—”_

_“Well you better get used to it. We’ve still got about four more years until the Serum fully infuses into the blood, and according to that file, there’s about thirty-seven more tests to conduct before the Project is considered complete. On this one at least.”_

_“Thirty-seven? Bloody hell…”_

_“Right now, the only thing you can do is fucking wait. Perhaps the First House will be merciful…”_

_“Fucking damn it. Damn it all to hell. If only we had been **told,** we wouldn’t have dumped him after the last injection failure.”_

_“No point in whining about that now. I’d worry about how you’re going to subdue the son of a bitch when he gets down here, and fight off his crazy subordinates when they follow. Because they **will** find him. Especially **her.** ”_

_“Who’s ‘her’? Did the lab rat find himself a girlfriend?”_

_“Not sure yet. Though from what ‘H’ says, they’re pretty close. You should know her. Subject 39?”_

_“Are you **trying** to get me slaughtered? **Her?** We knew she had survived and had joined the Scouting Legion too, but you’re saying she’s **his?** This day can’t get any worse…”_

_“Tell me about it. But she’s nothing to worry about. The First House doesn’t give a Titan’s ass about her.”_

_“Yet. But, I guess you’re right. Once Levi’s in our custody, the Scouting Legion will probably start calling her ‘Humanity’s Strongest’ and she’ll be forced to let him go. If she comes down here though…the Ripper will take care of her.”_

_“For all your optimism, you sure are quite the cutthroat.”_

_“Can’t afford to be charitable down here. Mind if I keep this file while you’re Aboveground?”_

_“Fine. Burn it when you’re done though. There’s two copies of the original in the Capital, and that’s one of them. The First House would like to, eh, keep it ‘classified’ for obvious reasons.”_

_“Naturally. Anyway, fine. I’ll give you the ashes when you come back. Oh…one last question before you catch the Conveyor… Maybe useless… but, as Head Researcher of Sina Unit, maybe you’ll know.”_

_“…What now?”_

_“He’s not the first one is he?”_

_“The first what?”_

_“The first ‘Levi’. The file makes no mention of his name before he was brought here. Just calls him ‘The Subject’.”_

_“Perceptive, aren’t you? But no. Not the first.”_

_“Ah.”_

_“There were six before him. One for each generation. Protocol prohibited discrimination, so it was decided that each subsequent Subject would be treated the same as the first and given the same identification.”_

_“Ingenious. Named after…”_

_“The L.E.V.I. Project.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thank you for reading! If you have any questions, comments, suggestions, anything you'd like me to address, please don't hesitate to message me!

**Author's Note:**

> Because I'm now completely head over heels for anything rivamika/levimika/whatever you call their ship, I've decided to go for a full on, serious fic here. Snooping around other people's rivamika tags and whatnot on Tumblr, I saw rivamikas' headcanon (the one about Mikasa and Levi being ultra fucking badass because they were experimented on when they were younger) and decided to wander with it a bit, and threw together a few chapters of some pretty intense shipping/theorizing/angst (definitely this one)/romance coupled with fangirling and dramatic over-thinking.
> 
> Will cover events from the past (headcanons and stuff), current events (especially ones where they interact heavily with each other, like the Female Titan arc), and the future (more headcanons). The rating will also be bumped up as soon as those chapters are posted. Bear with me while I cry in a corner about this ship.


End file.
